Love in 3 Parts
by Armadilloi
Summary: Read the A/Ns at the beginning of first chapter. AU and first 6 chaps are the angsty parts but don't skip them or it'll make no sense at all.
1. Part 1 Always and Forever

Lovein3parts1

_A/N: I've incurred writer's block on GEG and Kappa. Serious blockage so I'm letting them gel for a while. I've had GEG done but I absolutely hate it and so does the Nik._

_So, here is my latest tripe offering since I cannot do much more than moan and drag my ass around Chez Armadillo. No more booze and she's taken to counting the damned Vicodin. It's dark in the 1st third, light in the middle third, and gloriously and disgustingly Charah in the final third. Think of it as 'gestation'. Nik says it's 'chick flic material'. That means guys will hate it._  
_APR_

* * *

**Part One - Death**

The cell phone chirped and a nearly breathless voice said, "Answer that phone, Bartowski, and you're a dead man." This was followed by a series of short giggles and then a whimper. The coverlet on the large bed began to move and then…

The chirp sounded louder and seemingly more insistent. "I have to answer it. I'm the on-call tech tonight. I couldn't find anyone to take my place. You made a last minute change and…" his words were muffled and then swallowed by a kiss.

The chirping, it seemed, grew insistently louder and louder until finally, "Go ahead and answer the damned thing. It's distracting you from your duties. Go ahead, but make it quick…" She pulled the coverlet off them and he crawled over her to reach his cell.

With devilish intent, she reached down and held his rigid shaft, giving it a tweak and giggling at the look on his face. "I've grown accustomed to that, woman, so please…"

More giggling and then "Chuck, answer the damned thing. You've got me right where I want me so please…" The last 'please' was breathy and sexy and…

"This is Chuck, on-call tech. What's the problem?" Professional but friendly was the Buy More Nerd Herder motto. Unofficially, that is.

He looked at Sarah and made writing motions with his hand. She sighed and got up, gloriously bold in the way she walked across the room to retrieve a pad and pen. She gave her hips a delicious sway that made her firm breasts jiggle as she padded back to him. She sat beside him on the bed and handed him the pad. Her hand crept between his thighs and she fondled him, enjoying his distraction.

His voice raised an entire octave when he asked the customer to repeat the address and he said he'd be there in 30 minutes and ended the call.

"Chuck, 30 minutes?" She was disappointed but wasn't blaming him, well, not exactly. She was disappointed but his dedication to his tasks, be it the Buy More or the intersect was one of the things she'd come to love about him.

"Chuck, one of the things I love about you is your dedication but baby, this is our time…"

"One of the things? You mean there are more?" He was trying to dress and kiss and fondle her soft parts without accomplishing either very well.

She hesitated. She needed to be more careful. She needed to maintain distance and…shit, who was she kidding. She looked up as he was pulling on his socks and slipping into his shoes.

"Chuck, stuff here stays here, remember? The sleepover is for public consumption, and the public includes Casey. Our feelings stay here in this hotel room, Chuck. It's the way it has to be."

"I love you, Sarah, in this room, out of this room, wherever we are, but I understand your…position. It's OK. You don't have to say anything. I understand. You're a spy, I'm an asset, and ne'er the twain shall meet, right? I got it."

"Chuck, it's not like that." She walked over to her jewelry box and pushed through rings, bracelets and earrings until she found what she was looking for.

"Yes, it is, and I'm OK with it. Really. Now, kiss me goodbye and I'll be on my way."

"Chuck, lean down here. Take off your chain and hand it to me, please?" She slipped a tiny charm, given to her by her mother when she was 5. It was very special to her.

"Wear this for me as a sign of my feelings. It's not much but it comes from 'before the CIA' time. It's mine, not a prop. Wear it for me, please?"

If she couldn't bring herself to say it she could damned sure show it.

She slammed him up against the door and began to ravish his mouth hungrily, almost desperately, with hers, finally stopping and twisting him around so that she was against the door. She reached down, turned the knob and opened it enough to let him out.

"I love you, Sarah. Always and forever."

She pushed him out and immediately felt alone. She'd never felt this way before, ever. Not with Bryce or any of her other lovers or affairs. This was…oh, shit. She'd fallen in love with her asset, really in love. Not the enthusiastic buddy sex; no, they'd made love. She knew the difference from the first time but never thought about it. Four months of bliss and she knew that she could never go back to the way it had been. Or with anyone else.

She threw open the door and walked out into the hallway, naked and uncaring, just as he was stepping onto the elevator.

"Me, too, Chuck. Me, too." He gave her a gigawatt smile and got on the elevator.

* * *

The panic button on Chuck's phone sent an automated alarm code to the Castle and to John Casey who was asleep. Grumbling about clumsy nerd morons he checked the GPS transponder locator and found Chuck's location across town not at Walker's where they were 'working the cover'. He didn't believe that for one minute but as long as it stayed out of the workplace he didn't care.

He called Walker, hoping he'd wake her and he did.

"Why isn't Bartowski in your bed, Walker? What's he doing way across town at this time of night? Another lovers' tiff?" He zinged her as often as possible, making her pay in some form for her transgressions. He really didn't care. He just loved her responses.

"He's the on-call tech and he got called out. Why?"

"Panic button on his watch, I'm going to get dressed and check it out. You're on the way. Pick you up in 10 minutes."

**Unknown Location**

He verified the address and then stepped out of the Nerd Herder onto the dark street. The house at the address he'd been given was for sale and vacant. He was cursing people who found joy in calling in false on-site calls when he was grabbed from behind and forced to kneel beside his Herder. Chuck had wrestled a hand free and pushed the panic button on his CIA watch twice and then allowed his captors to handcuff him and put a bag over his head.

He knew that construction in this new development had stalled due to lack of funds and buyers. He should have followed procedure and called the number back to verify the trouble call but he'd been distracted.

He heard glass breaking and then a door opening and he was half-dragged through a room into the house and then downstairs into a basement. There was power to the home since the lights were on in the basement. Someone pushed him against a support pole and recuffed his hands over his head to a hook. The bag was left on his head. He could stand easily so there was no real weight on his cuffed hands.

There was no sound at all for the first few minutes. All he heard was his harsh breath in the confines of the canvas sack over his head.

The first blow was to his stomach and knocked the wind out of him. Still, no one spoke. He could hear the sound of shoe soles scruffling across the cement basement floor. Then another blow took him by surprise. This one was to the kidneys. He gasped and then sagged on his cuffed wrists.

He'd heard Casey once talking about interrogation and he'd said that as long as you didn't offer the first word you could last longer. How much longer Chuck didn't know.

Where was Sarah? Where was Casey? He'd pushed the panic button twice. Someone should be tracking him down, knocking down the door and rescuing him. It was what they were supposed to do, wasn't it?

This went on for 10 minutes although he had no way of guesstimating the time. No sound. Sudden pain. Recovery. No sounds. Another sudden pain somewhere else. Recovery.

Finally, gasping, he broke silence.

"What do you want? Who are you? Why are you doing this?"

"So, now the fun begins. Make it easy on yourself, Mr. Bartowski. Tell us what we want to know and you're free to go. Where are Bryce and Sarah Larkin, Mr. Bartowski? That's all we want to know. We know he's been to see you. Tell us where he is. Or tell us where Sarah Larkin is. Our employers need to speak with them about something they...borrowed from them. Simple as that and then you can go on about your business."

"I don't know where Bryce is. I haven't seen him since he got me kicked out of Stanford."

Another blow to the stomach, this time with something rigid. He heard the metallic sound as it scraped his belt buckle.

The same questions brought the same answers and more pummeling. Finally Chuck just shut up.

"Mr. Bartowski, things are going to get nasty soon. I have a schedule to keep. Now, you've been seen with his wife, Sarah Larkin. Don't lie to me. It could get very nasty very quickly."

"I've been seeing Sarah Walker, not Sarah Larkin. Your information is way past incorrect."

"That's a shame, Mr. Bartowski. A crying shame. Bryce and a blonde named, coincidently, Sarah Walker, were married 2 1/2 years ago in Cabo, Mexico." He nodded to his associate who was holding an aluminum baseball bat.

"At long last you get to use your toy, Arnold. Break his kneecap." Chuck tensed and then screamed when the bat struck his kneecap. He couldn't believe the pain and he almost threw up.

"One more time, Mr. Bartowski. Where is Bryce Larkin? Where is Sarah Larkin? If you don't tell us, we'll just keep on hurting you until you do or until you die. So, one more time. Where are the Larkins? Where is Bryce Larkin? Where is Sarah Larkin?" His associate tapped Chuck's injured knee and giggled when Chuck screamed.

"I – I – I don't know. I haven't seen him in more than a year. I don't know…please…She's not married, she's not. Not to him."

The man pointed to Chuck's ribs. The bat made a whooshing sound and then Chuck screamed again.

The 'talker' picked up Chuck's cell phone and pushed speed dial #1. "Maybe we can get someone else to convince you. Who's Number One in your life, Mr. Bartowski? Hmmm?"

* * *

They were four minutes away from where Chuck had signaled a code black situation. GPS showed that his wallet, cell phone and watch were all in the same place so they hadn't figured out the GPS transponder. Sarah's cell rang and she saw from the caller that it was Chuck.

"Chuck? Where are you? Are you OK? Chuck, answer me!"

"He's busy right now, all tied up as a matter of fact. So, are you his girlfriend? His mother? He could use his mother right now."

She could hear Chuck sobbing in the background and saying 'please, not Larkin, anyone but him'. The phone was on speaker and she had to be careful what she said. "I'm his girlfriend. Please don't hurt him. I have some money if that's what you want. I can sell my car."

"We're looking for a couple of friends of ours and your 'young man' knows where they are but just won't tell us. Doesn't that beat all? Break some more ribs. Put your back into it this time. I want to know where Bryce Larkin is."

The bat struck him low in the side and he knew he was in trouble. He couldn't control the scream and he was ashamed that Sarah heard him begging.

"Please don't hurt him. I – I know where Bryce Larkin is. He's in Colombia trying to get on with a Cartel there. He was here last week to finalize the divorce arrangements. That's all I know. Please, Chuck doesn't know anything. I filed for divorce before I met Chuck…please, just let him go."

'_She's really selling it'_, thought Casey, '_but why muddy the waters with this 'married and divorced crap_?' He held up two fingers indicating two minutes until they arrived but the look on his face said '_we will talk about this later!'_

"Where exactly in Colombia and who is he going to work with, Mrs. Larkin? Chuck, maybe you'll get out of this alive after all."

She hesitated, delaying a response as long as possible. Each second of delay meant being closer to his location and a delay in his pain. Finally when Chuck had been struck again and screamed out her name, she rattled off the name of a small town outside of Bogotá and some small-time dealers she'd run across.

"That's interesting. Well, Chuck, we're done here. Missy, you've been a big help. Sorry about your boyfriend. And don't worry about the divorce. We'll make you a widow. And as for young Chuck here", he turned to his associate and said, "Kill him."

Sarah screamed into the phone and then said clearly, not caring that Casey was sitting beside her, listening, "Chuck, listen to me, baby. Always and forever, Chuck, I'll love you always and forever."

She closed the phone just as they pulled up in front of the house. She opened the car door and ran to the back of the house leaving Casey far behind, on the phone following up on the cleaner team and ambulance who were one minute out.

She found the broken glass, opened the door and ran in, listening intently and finally seeing the light from the basement under the closed door.

She ran down the steps and shot the man who was again in mid-swing at Chuck's head but the blow still struck him. She heard Chuck scream her name and then there was a sickening sound like an overripe cantaloupe striking the floor and he was silent.

Casey was behind her and caught her when the man holding Chuck's cell phone fired at her, hitting her in the shoulder and neck.

Casey emptied his entire magazine into the shooter and then tried to stop the arterial blood spurting from her neck and gratefully passed her off to a qualified medic who'd followed them into the vacant house. He walked over to where other medics were working on Chuck just as they cut him down with bolt cutters and pulled the canvas bag from his head.

She was mouthing "Chuck" over and over but heard Casey gasp and mumble "Oh, Chuck, I'm sorry we didn't get here in time" and her last thought before she lost consciousness and her world ended was 'always and forever, Chuck'.

* * *

Casey rode in the ambulance with his partner going to a secure facility for treatment. Chuck's body was in another ambulance. He'd been torn between his duty to his partner and his duty to the intersect. Sarah was alive. Chuck was dead. Duty to his partner won out.

"Beckman, secure."

"Major Casey in Burbank. 'HARD DRIVE' is dead. 'BARBIE' is borderline. The asset was the on-call technician and responded to bogus service call. Unknown parties took control and beat him to death with an aluminum baseball bat. We were on speakerphone almost the entire time. They were looking for Bryce and Sarah Larkin. He did not give them up. He did not break. The perpetrators are dead, killed by Agent Walker and myself. She took one in the chest and one in the neck. I don't think she'll make it."

"And the asset?"

"Body has been taken by cleaners. Considering nature of injuries inflicted, they're staging a road accident. I plan on remaining in place until the funeral. Walker will be in the LA facility. Instructions?"

"Submit a more detailed written report, Major Casey. Remain on station, attend the funeral and then close out Burbank Station. If she survives, I'll have her transferred to a facility nearer her home of record and family as soon as it's medically sound to do so. You're sure they said she was married to Bryce Larkin?"

"Yes, ma'am, supposedly in Cabo, Mexico 2 years ago. She said she'd filed for divorce and that's why he was there 2 weeks ago. To finalize the paperwork.

"Major Casey, find Larkin and tell him to get the hell out of town. He led his pursuers to Bartowski. Considering their history, I'm astounded Bartowski didn't give the bastard up before the first blow was struck."

She hung up.

Casey held Walker's hand while the medics fought to keep her alive. He'd miss Walker. For a CIA puke, she had been a good partner, probably the best he'd ever had.

He concentrated on her now. He'd handle his feelings for the dead later. The living took precedence. But he intended to find out who hired the thugs and then there'd be payback. He owed that to Bartowski.

After he took care of Chuck's killers, he was going to have a long talk with Bryce Larkin the next time he slithered out from beneath whatever rock he was hiding under. Larkin and Walker, married? Unbelievable that she'd string Chuck along for…compliance. Honey trap whore. He shook his head in disgust.

* * *

_A/N: Setup for the 2nd and 3rd parts. More confusion, backstabbing, double dealing, betrayals, twists, turns, tweaks and general mayhem. I love Nicole's Vicodin. Push the button. Pretend it's an election year. Vote early – and often._

_APR_


	2. Cleaners Doctors Surprises and Anger

Lovein3Parts2

_**A/N: Nicole is out for the evening. I don't understand these things. Why go to someone else's house for a 'shower'? I've got 2 perfectly good ones in here and the Amazon shower out off the deck. I am bored and on the good ship Vicodin. Little pill, lotta lightness. Too bad it doesn't flow into my writing. BTW dchawk, Nik hates horror films unless the sound is turned down. And don't prejudge 8 others based on the contents of the first. **_

APR

* * *

**Part One (cont.)**

The 'ambulance' driven by the cleaners was little more than a truck with a gurney strapped down along one side. The things normally found in an ambulance were missing. Instead there were cutting and chopping implements, cleaners and solvents, ladders and scaffolding, paint cans, brushes and sprayers, vacuum sweepers and carpet cleaners, woodworking tools and various stains and lacquers. Another cleaner agent drove Chuck's Herder to the 'accident site' and the two agents in the 'ambulance' searched the body for anything that shouldn't be found on a dead 'civilian'.

His wallet was searched and a GPS transponder was removed. A transponder was removed from his cell phone. All telephone numbers, voicemails and photos were wiped from the chip and then one of the cleaners hit it with a sledgehammer.

When the cleaner replaced the wallet in Chuck's jean pocket he rolled the body over onto its back and was startled by a moan and a weak cough.

"Hey, this guy's alive! We need to get this set up quickly. He's got to be found in the wreck. Once he's in place I'll call in the tip on the accident. Maybe the first responders can save him. Damn, I hate this." He didn't know that Chuck was an asset since it was 'need to know'.

In a quieter voice he whispered, "Sorry, dude, but you're on your own from here on out. God bless and good luck."

The two cleaners 'posed' Chuck's body in the wrecked herder off the side of the road and deep in the ravine. To accident investigators, it would appear that someone had run him off the road and he'd hit the bridge abutment broadside, sustaining critical injuries before the vehicle came to rest at the bottom of the steep ravine.

Satisfied with the placement of everything, they called in the accident report and left. His fate was in the hands of God and the LA County Sheriff's Department.

When the cleaner agent got back to his station, he completed his reports to Headquarters noting that although the subject was 'hanging on by a thread, death was imminent. Injuries sustained precluded a positive outcome." It would be several days before anyone in a position of authority discovered that Charles Bartowski had not been pronounced dead at the scene. No mention was made of the disposition of the 'body'.

* * *

**CIA/NSA 'Approved' Hospital****North Hollywood, CA**

Walker was in surgery for nearly five hours. For nearly five hours John Casey drank coffee, read two-year old magazines, paced up and down the hallway, fielded calls from the CIA Director and his own boss, General Diane Beckman.

He was less than cordial when the surgeon finally signed off on some charts and motioned him into a small office off the main corridor. "How's my partner, Dr. Garvin?"

"She survived the surgery. Her shoulder is a wreck. That's what took the time. The bullet shattered the bones and severely compromised the surrounding tissues and nerves. Except for the blood loss, the neck wound was the least complicated although there will be scarring. The fetus was unaffected."

"The – the _fetus_?" asked a shocked Casey.

"Yes. Agent Walker is about 6 – 8 weeks pregnant. The fetus was unharmed."

'_Larkin had been in L.A. two months ago to' finalize' the divorce. It must be Larkin's. Probably 'one more for old-times sake' and he knocked her up. Sarah had lied to Chuck. It was just another reason for Chuck to hate Larkin had he lived. Maybe it was better this way.'_

The doctor continued his report, jolting Casey out of his musings.

"…Severely-limited range of motion…probably not field qualified any longer."

"What did you say?"

"I said the shoulder damage is extensive and she'll have a severely-limited range of motion and will probably not be qualified for field duty.'

"I see. Well, thank you, doctor. When can she travel safely by air? The General wants her transferred to a facility near her home and family."

_I thought Walker didn't have any family other than that scumbag con artist of a father? Was it a cover background to match her assignment, or was this just another lie force-fed to Bartowski to gain his sympathy and trust?'_

* * *

**Ventura Highway  
****N. Burbank, CA**

The L.A County Fire Department ambulance and several patrol cars converged on the site of Chuck's 'accident'. The paramedics used ropes to climb down the steep hillside to the wrecked Herder. They performed basic first aid and stabilized the victim and then signaled for a helicopter to lift the victim from the ravine since moving him up the slope might cause further damage. The helicopter arrived on station just as they finished cutting the door and roof from the Herder and lifted the body and departed for the hospital.

* * *

**Casa Bartowski  
****Burbank, CA**

Devon had just finished working an extended shift and was walking past the fountain in the courtyard when Ellie came running out of the apartment, half-dressed, sobbing and heading for her car.

Devon caught her by the arm and swung her around into his arms and asked her what was wrong.

"It's Chuck. He was on-call and he had a terrible accident up off the Ventura Highway and he's being airlifted to our hospital. The EMT called me when he saw his ID and knew I was his sister. He said to hurry because it 'didn't look good'. Devon, Chuck's going to die!"

"No, he isn't, Ellie. We've got some of the nation's finest trauma surgeons and Chuck will be in good hands. Let me drive. You're too damned upset."

* * *

**Burbank General Hospital  
****Burbank, CA**

Devon held Ellie's hand as they listened to the trauma surgeon who'd examined Chuck when he arrived by air ambulance.

"Ellie, I won't kid you, it's a miracle he's alive. The entire left side of his body is 'broken': ribs, arm, leg, kneecap, and he's presenting a depressed skull fracture and broken cheek and jaw. There are no breath sounds in his left lung. He also has severe bruising of the left kidney. He may lose his left eye or have limited vision. We won't know the treatment order until he comes back from Neurology and X-ray after the CT Scan."

"Thanks, Phil. We'll be right here so please keep me informed. I have his medical power of attorney and there's a copy of his Living Will on file here at the hospital."

She shuddered and then took a deep breath before continuing in a shaky and heartbroken voice. "He's a donor so if he…if he passes, harvest what you can for others. He'd like that. Living on in some way, helping someone else to live a better, longer life."

The ER doctor just nodded and then gave her a hug. "We'll do the very best we know how, Ellie. Chuck's like family to us. I'll keep you advised. Now, I'd better get back in there and get prepped."

But he didn't go 'back in there'. Instead he walked into his office, consulted a small notebook from his desk and dialed a long distance number. As anticipated, he received an automated recording instructing him to leave his name and number after the tone.

"This is Dr. Philip Macklin, Burbank General Hospital in Burbank, California, calling to report a code yellow on an asset associated with the Omaha Project. Charles Bartowski was brought into the ER here without his handlers. He was supposedly in an auto accident but it smells like 'cleaner work' to me. Require immediate response."

He waited for the automated message prompt and then entered a 4-digit code. He heard 'State you priority message, time frame requirement and telephone number for immediate response'.

"Should I have the subject terminated 'as a result of his injuries' or begin steps to have him stabilized for transit to a secure facility. Time is of the essence. Don't drag your asses making a decision tomorrow. You have AT MOST a 40-minute treatment window." He entered a telephone number and then hung up.

He sighed and put away the notebook. He knew Chuck and Ellie. He'd been to their house. It was only after he'd been recruited as a 'special physician' that he'd been briefed in on Bartowski's relationship with the NSA. Sometimes the most ordinary people were the most extraordinary.

**CIA/NSA 'Approved' Hospital  
****North Hollywood, CA**

Sarah Walker was in pain, severe physical pain, but nothing like what she was feeling emotionally. Chuck was dead. No more smiles, stolen moments, no more 'always and forever's'. She moaned and wished she could slip back into the arms of Morpheus but she was too disoriented to use the self-medicater and so she lay there reliving the most agonizing ten minutes of her life over and over.

Casey saw her tears and reached over and pushed the button on her Demerol applicator. She sighed and slipped away to dream about happier moments.

He had used the time wisely and already found out a great deal of information on the two men who'd killed Chuck. They were two-bit hoods that fed on the periphery of big time crime. He had already assembled quite the dossier including known assailants and previous 'employers'. Once he had his partner safely on a plane to wherever she called 'home' he'd knuckle down and go hunting. He smiled at one thought: they were always in season with no limit. There would be no 'catch and release' policy in effect in his world. He'd incurred a blood debt and intended to pay it off in spades.

His cell phone interrupted his musings.

"Casey, secure."

"Major Casey, this is General Beckman. Mr. Bartowski is alive and currently at Burbank General Hospital. Contact Dr. Philip Macklin by phone immediately and authorize all efforts to save his life. His survival is critical. Then go there. Maintain a high degree of security. We don't know how they tripped to him. I'll have additional agents sent to supplement your efforts."

"What about Agent Walker?"

"The CIA is handling her disposition. She's their responsibility. If she's able and Bartowski returns to his duties she may return, otherwise she'll be reassigned or retired if her physical condition is too limiting."

* * *

**Burbank General Hospital  
****Burbank, CA**

Dr. Philip Macklin answered his page and was told a visitor was waiting in his office. When he got there, he met John Casey who had introduced himself and his cover over the phone. Casey was blunt and to the point.

"Dr. Macklin, will he survive? How extensive is the head trauma and will it affect his ability to perform?" Macklin had been given limited intersect clearance.

"Major Casey, we're still not sure he'll survive his other injuries. He's breathing on his own but he's still not out of the woods. We won't know the extent of his 'abilities' until he regains consciousness and no, I don't know when that will be." He then gave a run down of his injuries and prognosis.

"You are to save his life at all costs. He is that important, Doctor."

"All my patients are important. The cleaners screwed this one up. He should have been here hours ago. That's why I called in a code yellow. I wasn't sure if this was a botched termination. I know him and his sister. I'll do everything I can to save him."

"When he's stabilized we'll probably move him to a secure facility for treatment. No disrespect, Doctor, but technology is available there that you don't have access to here."

"I understand completely. What do I tell the family?"

"Nothing. I'll handle it. May I use your office?"

"Certainly. I'll be with him and the trauma team."

* * *

**Surgical Waiting Room  
****Burbank General Hospital**

Ellie was surprised but pleased to see her neighbor John Casey. She wondered how he'd heard about her brother's accident so quickly but figured it had something to do with both of them working at the Buy More.

"Ellie, I need you and Devon to come with me, please? It's important. It's about Chuck and what happened last night. Dr. Macklin will know where to find us if he needs you."

**Dr. Macklin's Office**

"You're telling me that my little brother is a spy? That's ridiculous, John. How dare you pull a joke at a time like this?" Ellie's voice was raised and her hackles were definitely up.

"Ellie, I assure you, I'm not joking but 'spy' is not what he is, he's an asset, a valuable intelligence analyst. He's unique in all the world." He showed her his NSA ID.

After an hour of explanation, Ellie finally asked the question Casey didn't want to deal with. "Where is Sarah, John? She isn't answering her cell. Is something wrong with…oh, my God, she's a spy, too. Is anything in his life real?"

"You're real. Walker, well, I'm not so sure. I thought those two were breaking the rules but it turned out she was just doing her job and keeping him in control."

Casey hesitated then continued.

"No. That's not true, Ellie. She had a job to do but she cared for Chuck, more than she was allowed to. They shared something special but I'm not sure exactly where she is. She was shot in the chest and throat rescuing him…she's not in good shape. Probably finished as an agent." He saw no reason to mention her pregnancy or her pending divorce from Bryce Larkin. Ellie hated Larkin for getting Chuck expelled from Stanford.

"So what's next, Major Casey? What are you going to do with a broken man who's given up a lot according to you for his country? Who's going to pay for all this? How about physical therapy? What if he loses his eye? What about retraining?"

"He's an asset. The government will pick up the tab. If he's still a viable asset, we'll employ him. If not, we'll pension him off; give him a start someplace else. But Ellie, Chuck Bartowski's going to have to die. Someone else told the people who did this to him where to find him. He won't be safe living in Burbank. He'll need a new identity."

"OK, but what about me? I'm his sister. Do I just…forget I have a brother?"

"Of course not. You'll just have to make sure you are very careful when you go to see him and talk to him on the phone. But this is all premature. We have to get him back on his feet. The NSA will provide physical therapy and retraining as soon as the doctors say he's ready, but he'll have to leave here as soon as possible and then 'die' publicly."

"Major, that assumes he doesn't die here before all this can be done."

* * *

**_A/N: Too damned many negative waves. It does get better. Some things must happen first and surprise…some of them ain't so good._**

**_APR_**


	3. Chuck Can Flash Sarah Walker is No More

Lovein3parts3

_A/N: I stole Elizabeth Reynolds from an old fan fic I read written by someone I can't remember except that he/she is an outstanding writer and I hope he/she doesn't mind my theft. I liked the name. It seemed more fitting than Jane Brown. If you wrote it and are pissed I'll delete and rebook with a different name – something like Mazolla Earl._

_BTW, I love the reviews that start 'Holy Crap!'._

* * *

**Part 1 (conclusion)**

"**Good people sleep peaceably in their beds at night only because rough men stand ready to do violence to those who would do them harm."  
-- George Orwell**

**Burbank General Hospital  
****Burbank, CA**  
**Helipad**

"John, I thought Chuck was going to wherever by ambulance." Ellie was concerned that after 3 weeks of holding his hand and worrying herself half sick that she'd never see her brother again.

"Ellie, this is all for his protection. The floor nurses were advised he'd passed away last night in his sleep. That's what the people at the Buy More will think and the newspaper article on the accident will cover the gaps. Just remember to act sad for the others at the funeral. I know it's hard, deceiving people who loved him, but it beats the hell out of a real funeral. I'll call you when I can, Ellie. I'll take good care of him."

The helicopter lifted off and flew in a generally northeasterly direction. It was really only going as far as Edwards AFB where Chuck would be transferred to a waiting air ambulance for the final leg of his journey.

It was ironic that after all that had happened, Chuck was finally going to the underground bunker he'd feared for the past year. He'd finally regained some semblance of consciousness after 10 days and had gone through a series of surgeries to repair the most critical injuries not related to his head injury.

* * *

**Converted Titan II Missile Complex  
****Ellsworth AFB, MT**

General Beckman overrode the entire process.

"Major Casey, can he flash? Is the information in the intersect still accessible by the asset?"

"Ma'am, we haven't tried anything yet. We're concentrating on his recovery from his surgeries and basic physical therapy."

"Major, test him. If he can flash, accelerate the physical therapy as much as he can physically handle. If he can't…"

"Yes, General, if he can't?"

"Then he's of no further use to us. Return him to his family. He's their problem from then on. We'll pick up the tab for any medical expenses, including his therapy and retraining but I want him out of there within 24 hours of your findings."

"Yes, ma'am." God, she was a cold-hearted bitch. He really had expected her to tell him to shoot him and bury the body in the desert if he couldn't flash.

* * *

Chuck's quarters were in the lowest level of the complex. He had a large bedroom, living room, office and kitchen. At the moment he was limited to the bedroom and a hospital bed. When he no longer needed it, the bed would be removed and replaced by a standard king-sized bed. There was a nurse in his room 24 hours a day.

Casey entered Chuck's quarters accompanied by his physical therapist. If Chuck was awake he had to accomplish the General's tasks before continuing.

"Wait here, Heather. This next part is way above your pay grade."

He knocked twice on Chuck's door and then walked in. He was sitting up in bed, dozing. The nurse knew the drill and excused herself.

"Chuck, wake up. We need to run a perception test."

"Yeah, sure. I wasn't really asleep. Just resting my eye. Have another damned headache and the quack won't give me anything for it." It was hard to understand some of the words since his broken jaw was wired.

"This won't take long and then I'll talk to your doctor about some pain meds. Now, I'm going to show you some photos. Tell me what you see."

Casey opened a manila folder and removed a photograph of a woman.

Chuck flashed and it made him cringe. Casey noted his wince and made a mental note to talk again with the neurologist. He didn't flutter his eyes any longer and look like he was on the verge of a seizure. Now he just winced in anticipation of pain.

"That's Sasha Banachek, Romanian national. We arrested her in Palm Springs a few months ago. That's not flashing, it's history, Casey."

Casey nodded and pulled out a photograph of a train in a mountain setting pulling a string of strange-looking boxcars across a trestle bridge. "Chuck, this one is very complex and very hush-hush. Tell me what you see."

_Poker Chip_

_Mushroom Cloud_

_Minuteman II ICBMs_

_Bodies being bulldozed into a trench dug in the sand_

_Burning cities_

_Poker Chip_

"Oh, wow. That hurt. That's a missile launch and transfer train carrying 10 Minuteman II ICBMs each with a 5-warhead MIRV package. The train runs between Casper, Wyoming and Omaha, Nebraska and has several alternate routes. It's the answer to the old USSR's SS23 mobile launching system." He continued on until Casey motioned him to stop.

Casey was impressed with the descriptive and analytical response. Not at all like his usual responses. This was very professional and instructive with no emotional judgment coloring the content.

"Very good, Chuck. Just a couple more."

Casey walked out of Chuck's bedroom and nodded to his partner, the 'physical therapist' and said, "You can go in now. He's a little cranky. The exercise I had him do was taxing. He's not normally so…crabby." The last photograph had been of his old handler, Sarah Walker. His response was the only emotional one out of the nine he'd reviewed.

"Sarah Lying Bitch Walker, married to Bryce RatBastard Larkin for the past 2 or more years. Current whereabouts unknown. Queen of the Honey Trap Harlots. The Whore of Babylon on the Potomac" and in a whisper, "who said she loved me, Casey, but it was just another of her spy lies. What's another lie to a spy? _Always and forever_ and I fell for it hook, line and sinker."

His response had stung Casey. It was the truth although the name-calling was unprofessional. It was a concise analysis of their relationship in less than a few seconds. Sometimes Casey forgot about the 'people' they'd hurt in the process of protecting the greater good. He knew what Walker had said in the car over the speakerphone. He doubted that Bartowski had been coherent enough to hear or understand it. It had seemed sincere to Casey but now he wondered.

Heather Parker was cleared for the intersect. She had to be. If his physical therapy progressed satisfactorily she could drop the cover of PT/Trainer and resume her duties as an agent of the NSA, newly assigned to the Omaha Project and partner with John Casey.

It was going to be a long 8-month process rebuilding the wreck of a man she knew waited for her beyond the door. He'd need surgery to replace his knee and probably cosmetic surgery to clean up his face. She'd read the report of his injuries and marveled that he'd survived. He'd been kind of an attractive man before the assault. Not her type, though.

* * *

John Casey contacted General Beckman.

"So he can flash? No degradation of data?"

"Apparently so, ma'am. If anything, it's a better and more concise recitation of facts without his usual personal asides. It must be painful somehow since now he cringes when he flashes and he's not fluttering his eyes like a schoolgirl any longer when he does it."

"I don't care if he turns blue and his head spins around like Linda Blair, we have the intersect back and it's functional. Pull out the stops, Major Casey, and get Bartowski on his feet and back into the game. I'll have the IT section setup a data transfer link and when he's not doing physical therapy, he can review intel reports."

She hung up. Poor Chuck. Didn't she have any idea of just how bad his injuries were? She probably did but didn't care.

* * *

Heather Parker put a smile on her face and knocked and then opened the door to Chuck's bedroom.

"Hi, Mr. Bartowski, I'm Heather Parker and I'm your physical therapist for the duration of your therapy."

"Is that your cover, Agent Parker, or are you really a physical therapist in real life?" She blinked and her jaw sagged a bit. The man lying on the bed looked more like a cadaver than a living person. She shuddered when she connected the visual image with the reports she'd read. The photo in the file looked nothing like the wreck lying before her.

"I'm sorry. What did you say?"

"I rarely render women speechless unless I'm asking them out. I asked if being a Physical Therapist was your 'cover', Agent Parker, or if you really were a physical therapist?"

She drew herself up to her full 5'4" and fixed him with a glare. "I graduated with an MS in sports medicine with a full certification in both physical and occupational therapy. I did an internship at the Mayo Clinic. Being an agent is just icing on the cake and gives me access to interesting challenges – like putting your body back together and making you more of a man than you were before your accident."

"OK, Agent Parker, how do you propose to do that? Synergism? Got spare parts from other victims lying around?"

She ignored his sarcasm. Casey had warned her that he was tough as nails but sarcastic when in either mental or physical pain – and he was in both. "Call me Heather and I'll call you…"

"My name is Mr. Bartowski and you're Agent Parker. I'm an asset and you're an agent. We aren't friends. We really aren't colleagues. I'm the piece of meat you have to restore to duty. Let's keep that in mind. I don't trust anyone down here in Happy Valley Underground and I don't intend to change my attitude anytime soon. When do we start?"

* * *

**CIA Headquarters**  
**Langley, VA**

Sarah Walker sat outside the Director of Operations' Office waiting her interview. She wasn't sure what she'd be offered, if anything. She had lost her assigned asset although no one could point a finger at her. She'd done her job, perhaps too damned well. She'd fallen helplessly and hopelessly in love with her asset. And she'd gotten pregnant in the process.

"Ms. Walker, the Director will see you now." She smiled at Sarah and then went about her business.

The interview was brief and to the point. "Ms. Walker, you are not qualified for field duty any longer due to the nature of your injuries. The damage to your shoulder is permanent and the diminished range of motion eliminates you from field duty."

Her heart, already ravaged, broke a little more. She loved being in the field. It's where she belonged. She had never looked past her field time to her next career step.

"However, your experience and training more than qualify you for a desk in the Analysis and Plans section and we'd love to have you after your return from maternity leave. You've got quite a few months of accrued leave and you should take them. After the birth of your child, assuming you don't terminate the pregnancy, you can accept the senior position in A&P. The alternative is to accept our thanks and a medical pension with retirement benefits. Take a week to decide and let me know your decision."

"Thank you, Director. I'll let you know before the end of the week. Thank you for your time." She rose, shook his hand and then walked out of the CIA for the final time. She'd take retirement and go home. There were options available there, for her and for Chuck's baby. She was going home – if they'd have her.

Later that night, after reconsidering her emotional response to the situation, _damned hormones,_ she dialed a number she hadn't in 6 long years.

"Hello, Daddy? It's Elizabeth. Daddy, can I please come home? Please?" She was almost crying. She was chewing on her bottom lip, almost drawing blood. All this tension was not good for their baby.

"Lizzie? Come home? Of course. Your mother will be so pleased. When can we expect you? How long are you staying? Are you bringing…what's his name? Oh, yeah. Bryce. Is he coming?" She could hear the – distaste? – in his voice. He'd despised Bryce Larkin as much as his daughter thought she'd loved him. It was why she hadn't been home.

"Daddy, Bryce and I are divorcing. I'm coming home for good this time. So much has happened. So much is going to happen. Daddy, I met someone and fell in love, really for the first time and he…he died, Daddy, and I'm carrying our baby. Please, can I just come home? Please?"

"Call us when you get reservations. Wait! Baby girl, do you need any money? We'll buy your ticket for you. Where are you? And when can you come home? We've missed you, your mom and I. And your sister. We've missed both our girls."

"No, Daddy, I don't need money. I'm fine. We're fine. I'll be home sometime this week. I'll call with my flight information. I love you, Daddy. Thanks for letting me come home."

"Elizabeth Reynolds, stop that crying at once. This will always be your home and you'll always be welcome. Bring my grandchild-to-be home, Lizzie. It'll be all right, you'll see. Now, no more tears, young lady. You're coming home for good and that's the end of it."

And in a way, it was.

* * *

_**A/N: Ok, the tableau is ready, the stage is set. Bring on the conflicts, confrontations, and confusion. It's a Milesian tale updated for the 21**__**st**__** century. APR **_


	4. Return of the Prodigal Sister

Lovein3parts4

* * *

**_A/N: I borrowed another author's 'relationship' angle for the plot. I think it was Sharpasamarble but don't really remember. If it was, cool beanz, if not then whoever did it, it's cool. This is your credit…lol_**

**_Also, Akagi010, probably no relation at all to the Soryu or Hiryu told me that Elizabeth Reynolds belongs to the brilliant Notorious JMG and that he wanted her back. So, since I always keep my word…DA DA! Exit Elizabeth Reynolds and enter….OLIVE EARL! [Mazolla was just too weird]. I am sooo bored._**

_

* * *

_

**Part 2 Birth**

Converted Titan II Missile Complex  
**Ellsworth AFB, MT**

John Casey had another batch of intel reports ready for transmission. His asset/patient had turned into a workaholic, churning out reports and responses to inquiries from various NSA functions. The intersect seemed to dominate his waking life. He didn't sleep much. He didn't say much. He worked. He avoided any contact with anyone else unless absolutely essential. In short, he'd adapted to life in a bunker.

His physical therapy was on track. Every day he worked out in the gym under Heather Parker's watchful eye. He had a tendency to push himself into situations his body couldn't handle. He could walk, for example, using a specially designed knee brace until his body finished repairing itself and recovering from the orthopedic surgeries. The brace was probably a permanent fixture in his life as was a cane. He balked at using the cane but after losing his balance in the cafeteria, reluctantly agreed to use it full time.

"Chuck, that's enough for today. You're pushing yourself too hard and you'll only suffer a setback if you tear those stitches or injure the ACLs. You're ahead of the curve, don't undo all my good work, Bartowski."

"OK, I have some work to do back in the office. Did you ask Casey about hand-to-hand training? And the range?"

"No, you're not ready for that yet. You need to be totally healed before trying anything like training. How's the eye? Still bothering you?"

"It's fine, Agent Parker. Quit nagging. Go find Casey. Nag him for a while. Ask him to take you to dinner. You, at least, can leave anytime you want. Bring me back some fresh air and a bag of sunshine."

Agent Parker blushed. Chuck had found out that Parker had a 'thing' for Major Casey and pushed her buttons every chance he got. She was always blushing when the Major's name came up. Today was no exception.

"Chuck, I don't hassle you about your girlfriends, don't hassle me either, please?"

"You don't know anything about me, Agent Parker, and it's going to stay that way. I learned from one of the best and I'm a quick study. My past relationships were all unmitigated disasters and I'm not looking to repeat them - ever."

"Watch it, buster or I'll hide your cane again and watch you lurch your way through the cafeteria line." She'd talked with Casey about Chuck and Sarah and she found herself torn between duty and the desire to just hold onto Chuck and make the pain go away. He was a nice guy but must have been a great guy before all this shit dropped on him.

"Fine. But seriously, ask him out. He's too shy to ask you." Actually, Casey had mentioned once or twice that Parker was 'a nice distraction' which translated from CaseySpeech to English as 'boy, she's hot!' but the age difference kept him from doing anything about it.

* * *

**Hodge, Wyoming**

Elizabeth Reynolds woke in her own bed for the first time in six years. They'd stayed up late last night just talking and laughing and getting to know each other again.

Her mother had been both delighted and worried about her pregnancy and her father took her aside and asked her for the truth. She promised him that she'd tell him everything today but that she was tired after the long flights.

Her parents owned a cattle ranch and still worked it although her dad was talking about 'selling it off and moving into the city'. She'd always loved working the ranch and wanted to talk to him about selling it to her instead of some outsider or corporation. She'd need something to keep busy and she loved every square foot of the 16 square miles the Reynolds 'spread' covered. Looking at it now, she knew she could never go back to her 'old life'. She was home.

She finished her juice and showered and waited for her father beside his old jeep. He always 'ran the fences' at least once a week and this was the day for it. They'd talk and she'd tell him everything.

They'd completed about half the fence line and the conversation had waned. She was feeling depressed and her father was feeling guilty.

"So this Chuck is the father and he didn't know you really loved him until a few seconds before he was killed, right? And he always told you he loved you, even when you couldn't do anything about it. He kept coming back and working at you until you finally admitted it to yourself and that was the last time you saw him, except for that damned basement?"

"Yeah, Daddy. That about sums it up. Too little, too late. You'd have liked him, though. He was honest and caring and funny and… and I miss him so much. He was the only guy who ever made me feel dirty about my job. He loved me, Dad, without even knowing who I really was. I never told him."

"I even created a fake 'father' to keep them off the scent of my real family. He was honest and I lived a lie within a lie. And I'm ashamed. All he wanted was to be loved back and I couldn't do it, I wouldn't do it because of the damned job."

"But he must have known, Liz, he must have sensed it. And you finally told him. It probably made his passing a little easier, baby girl. I'm sorry I never got to meet this Chuck. Sounds like a helluva guy. Now that Larkin, he was a piece of work. He loved the fact that you loved him. I don't think he really loved you. His kind likes to possess and control, Liz, not love."

"Dad, please…"

"No, I held my tongue, kept my peace but no more. That piece of shit didn't even think twice about sending that crap to your boyfriend even knowing that someday it would get him killed. That's so like him. Thinking of himself first and his friends and family a distant last. I'm glad you're rid of him and I'm so glad that baby is not Larkin's."

'_So am I.'_

* * *

**Casa Bartowski  
Burbank, CA**

Carina Hansen had stopped off at the Buy More after seeing that the Wienerlicious was closed. She figured she'd 'bump' into Casey and then harass Chuck for a while and then she and Sarah would go out and get drunk and disorderly. She was between missions and had nothing to do and no one to do it with.

She'd left the Buy More in shock. Casey and Sarah were gone. Chuck was dead. The explanation that Morgan Grimes had provided smelled of an op gone wrong and then a clean up, NSA style. She had to know if it was a lie so she planned on talking to Chuck's sister, Ellie. If Chuck had been sent to a bunker, Sarah would be heartbroken. If he was dead, she didn't know what she'd be.

'_We're sorry but the number you have dialed has been disconnected or is no longer in service.'_

She got the same message when she called Sarah's cell or Casey's. A total clean up of an operation. No bread crumbs to follow. No leads. No nothing. It was as if they'd never existed.

She knocked at the door and Ellie greeted her warily. She knew who Carina was and wondered if this was the first 'attempt' by the enemy to get a lead on Chuck.

"Chuck was in an automobile accident, Miss Hansen. Sarah Walker disappeared a day after the accident and John Casey left the Buy More a day later. My brother died of injuries 12 days later and we scattered his ashes into the ocean at his favorite spot on the beach. That's all I can tell you except that I miss him and I miss Sarah. She was my best friend."

'_Chew on that, spy bitch'._

* * *

Carina was an operative assigned to the DEA but who worked for any of the agencies when the need for her 'special skills' arose. She had all the qualities of a great female operative: insatiable curiosity, physical prowess, blinding beauty and determination to accomplish her mission. She had, however, one huge and glaring weakness: she loved her baby sister, and something told her she was in trouble or worse.

She bought a pre-paid cell phone at a convenience store and dialed a number she hadn't had the courage to use in almost 6 years.

"Hello." She only answered the phone because of the area code. Maybe it was Ellie who'd somehow tracked her down?

"Sarah?" She hated the sound of her own voice at times like this. She could hear the longing in it.

"No, there's no one here by that name. Sorry." She hung up the phone, startled and suddenly afraid. Someone had tracked her down, tracked her to her home, possibly putting her parents in danger. She started to plan on running. If she could leave a broad trail away from home her pursuers might not bother her folks.

The phone rang again. The same area code and number as before. Answering as if aggravated it was a redial of a wrong number she put just the right amount of aggravation in her voice.

"Hello. You dialed the same number again."

"Lizard, it's Jess. Christ, what happened down here?" She used names she'd avoided for years. Family names. Precious names.

"J-Jessica? How – I mean – why are you calling?" She didn't want to discuss it on an open line. You never knew who might be listening.

Her response was couched in vague terms but she knew her sister would understand.

"I'm on vacation for a month. A whole month with nothing to do and so I stopped by L.A. and looked up some old friends but they've moved on and so I thought I'd come on up there and kick around with the old crew unless they're off partying somewhere."

Translation: "I'm off assignment on leave, no one in L.A., dead or missing, looking for answers and I'm coming home unless it's dangerous for you."

"When can you get here? I need an old friend to talk to. So much has happened and I could really use a friendly face. I moved back home, Jessica. I'm getting a divorce, quit the job, met someone in L.A. and lost him and so I'm licking my wounds."

Translation: "Come now. No danger. I dumped Bryce, quit the CIA, Chuck's dead and I got hurt."

"Lizzie, is Daddy still pissed at me? I mean, should I get a hotel room or something? I don't want to stir up old shit, kid. It must be hard enough for you without me bringing tension into the mix."

"Jess, please come home. We need you. Daddy's getting older and Mom's no spring chicken and the ranch is running them both ragged. I'm staying. I'll work it with them as long as I'm able but please, Jess, come home. It's time to heal all our wounds."

"I'll be there tomorrow. I'll hold off on the hotel until I see if he starts his preaching again. It's still a raw wound with me even after almost 10 years, Liz."

* * *

Sometime during the night Chuck woke screaming from a fever dream that brought back that night on the Ventura Highway in stark detail. The on-duty nurse ran a quick physical assessment, made the correct decision and called Emergency Services and also alerted Major Casey that the patient was in serious trouble.

Chuck was operated on two hours later and damaged and infected tissues caused by missed bone fragments from the shattered ocular orbit were removed. They could not save the eye.

Per procedure, Casey had contacted his boss, General Beckman.

"Can he still flash, Major Casey? How will this affect the intersect retrieval process?"

"General, he's still in recovery. He's not even conscious yet. I alerted you per your standing orders regarding the health of the subject."

"Test him as soon as he's stable and alert enough to respond. Inform me of your findings immediately, Major Casey."

Casey slammed the phone down and growled. Heather grabbed his fisted hand since she knew he was going to put it through the office wall if she didn't.

"That cold bitch wants him 'tested' as soon as he's alert enough to respond. Not one question about him. Not one damned comment about him losing a fucking eye. I swear I'm getting too old for this shit."

"John, calm down. It's the way she is. Focused on the bigger picture while we have to deal with the fine detail. He's strong and resilient and he'll bounce back with a vengeance. He's going to be out for at least another two hours. Let me buy you breakfast in the cafeteria. Please, John?"

She'd never called him 'John' before. He liked it. It riled him when Chuck did it but she was a nice distraction.

* * *

**Casper Regional Air Terminal  
Casper, Wyoming**

Liz waited for her sister in the arrival area, dying for a cup of coffee but settling for juice from a vending machine. She caught a reflection of herself in the window of the terminal. She saw a young woman dressed in jeans, boots and a loose-fitting man's work shirt who looked happy. She shook her head and grinned. She was as happy now as she'd ever been before meeting Chuck. She unconsciously rubbed her 'baby bump' as her mother referred it, and grinned.

She'd gone for an ultrasound earlier in the morning and learned that she and Chuck were going to have a little girl. She knew he'd have been just as thrilled with the prospect as she was. She'd even picked out a name but kept it to herself. The name was just as special to her as the 'bump' was.

Her mother had insisted on going with her for 'moral support' and when she started to cry when filling out the forms after getting to the part about 'father', her mom had taken the clipboard and pen and asked her the questions and filled in the answers.

"Liz, what was your young man's name? I can't spell it."

"Liz, when was he born? You never mentioned it."

"We'll just skip this part. I assume he never had any of these diseases. You have better sense than to fool around with a 'player'."

She'd laughed through her sniffles and told her mom about meeting him for the first time, about his two and only two girlfriends, about how he didn't want a 'cover' relationship and about how he'd brought her into his family and made her welcome.

The OB/GYN visit had brought them closer together and answered a lot of questions her mother may have had about the father of her granddaughter. It was a relief for both of them. She'd been terrified that her daughter had 'gotten in trouble' with that scumbag Larkin.

Rachel Reynolds did not hate anyone in the entire world except Bryce Larkin. He'd been the wedge that had driven her from her parents. He'd been…an asshole. She blushed but stood by her opinion. "Lizzie, the man's an asshole. There. I said it. But it's true. Please reconsider this marriage. He's not the one for you. I know you. He's not the one." And she'd been right all those years ago when they'd spoken for the last time on the phone.

* * *

Liz shook her head to clear her thoughts when she heard the PA announce the arrival of her sister's flight. Getting to Casper was not a simple task even from a transportation hub like L.A.

Carina'd almost walked past her sister, not recognizing her in 'local clothes'.

"LIZZARD!" She ran to her sister and swept her into a hug unlike the one she normally used when meeting her 'on the job'. She stepped back, still holding Liz's hands and looked at her.

"My God, Lizzie Reynolds, you're _preggers_!" It didn't really show in the clothes she wore but she was perceptive and observant and had never seen her younger sister look so…radiant.

"Jessie, hush. I don't want the whole airport to know. Let's get your bag and head out. I'm in short term parking…"

"You're looking great, kid. A lot better than the last time I saw you. I went by your old job but it was closed. Then I figured I'd hook up with Casey, harass Chu…" She stopped and looked at the floor, unsure of what to say.

"It's OK, Jess. Chuck. His name was Chuck. Charles Bartowski. But always Chuck to me. And then I'll bet you cornered Morgan, flashed some cleavage at him and got the whole story, right?" She laughed. She knew Morgan and she knew her sister.

"I got the official spiel and so I tracked down his sister and went there. I got the official line but she was cold and distant, almost like I was the enemy or something. His deal wasn't well known, was it?"

"No. I think she's just mourning him. They were incredibly close."

"Speaking of incredibly close, is it Chuck's baby or Bryce's?"

Liz stopped walking and glared at her sister. "It's Chuck's. It has to be. Bryce and I haven't slept together since right after I got assigned to Burbank. That was the end. I already had Chuck in my sights. He's my baby's daddy. So don't go there again, _CARINA_, or it'll go south fast. My Chuck was more of a man on his worst day than Larkin was on his best."

"OK, OK, Jesus, Liz, I was only asking. It was a normal question given your unusual relationship with Chuck."

"Did you know I was only the third girl he'd been with? There was his ex-fiancé that had cheated on him with Bryce and then there was the sandwich girl when we were on our 'breakup' and then me."

"Um, Liz, there were four. During the breakup, I seduced him. I wanted to have him because he was yours. It didn't mean anything to me. He wasn't really all that enthusiastic about it. I could tell he felt really guilty…but I envy you. No man has ever whispered another woman's name in my ear when he climaxed. I felt so ashamed of myself. I'm sorry, Liz. It was a shitty thing to do."

"I was wondering if you'd 'fess up'. You know that he told me almost exactly the same thing, and that he was ashamed of himself even though we weren't 'together' he still felt like he was cheating. That was it for me. That level of commitment to me, to us, from someone who had no right or reason to expect anything other than the cover…I knew then, subconsciously, that I had fallen in love with my asset, with Chuck."

"And now what are you going to do, Liz? Other than become a mom, I mean? Going to go out looking for Mr. Good Bar?"

She didn't know why she was being so catty. Yes, she did. She was insanely jealous of her, even though her man was dead. She wanted someone like that to love and cherish her despite her faults and history. Once she'd had one like that but between the jobs and her churlish attitude toward him, well, it didn't last.

"I'm going to live for the both of us, be both a mom and a dad to little Charlie and then…when she's old enough to make it on her own…I'll just wait for my time. I'm not ever going to find another Chuck and honestly, Jessica, I'm not going to look."

"Charlie? You're calling my niece '_Charlie_'?"

"Charahleigh Jessica Bartowski. A real mouthful. I just combined our first names, well his real name and my cover, but it's how he knew me. He didn't have a clue who Elizabeth Reynolds was."

"Oh, OK. I thought you said '_Charlie_'. But really, hanging the kid with 'Bartowski' when you weren't even…"

"Jessica, get your ass on the next plane to wherever you really want to be. He was her father and I'll honor him by giving her his name. You haven't changed a bit. Still the most…aggravating and…and self-centered bitch on the planet." She strode off purposefully, glad to have seen her sister but sad she was still so damned…selfish.

Her sister caught up with her and grabbed her arm and then pulled her into a hug, whispering through tears, "I'm sorry, Liz, please, don't turn away from me. You'll need a shoulder to lean on in the days ahead. Don't send me away."

"Fine. Quit the sniveling and get in the jeep. And don't bring up Chuck again if you're just going to go off on him. He's dead, he saved my life and Bryce's, and I'm having our baby. No more discussion."

* * *

**_A/N: OK, so maybe a little more angst leaked in from part 1 but you have to admit it makes the story move along. In the next segment she's in her second trimester and she's having issues, doubts and problems while he's finishing up his therapy, getting some licks in on the sparring mat and learning to hit the broad side of a barn, all the while pushing Casey and Parker closer and closer, while Beckman becomes even worse than before._**

**APR**


	5. Ellie Visits Carina Talks to Chuck

Lovein3parts5

* * *

A/N: You don't get to suffer through Carina/Jessica's homecoming, just accept that it happened and she left when her leave was up. Liz is almost 7 months pregnant and suffering from depression. Chuck is… well, read it.

* * *

**Hodge, Wyoming**

Elizabeth Reynolds was feeling sorry for herself. She felt like she'd swallowed a bowling ball that had increased in size until she felt like her ribs and hips were being forced apart. It didn't exactly hurt but the constant pressure was getting to her.

"Mom, I've got an OB appointment this afternoon. Can you drive me, please? I just don't feel comfortable driving anymore. And then I need to pick up some things on my baby list and get a couple more t-shirts. I feel like Shamu and look worse."

"I'll drive you. Is Charlie done doing handstands on your bladder? You must have been up and down 5 times last night."

"She's definitely her father's daughter. Definitely ADHD and I swear I can hear him laughing at her prenatal antics."

There was silence in the kitchen. It had been at this table that her father and Jessica had finally come to grips with the issues that had driven her away from home and helped to forge her into the deadly agent she was. It had been a bitter argument but they'd resolved issues and she'd promised to visit more often and to call at least once a month. So far, no calls.

She had so much to do and only 2 months to get it all done and yet she was bored. She still 'rode' the fences with her dad but that left 6 days out of the week to fill with tasks. She would not let herself be swept up in self-pity. She wasn't the first woman to raise a baby alone and she wouldn't be the last.

She missed him. Mostly at night, but always and forever.

* * *

**Converted Titan II Missile Complex  
****Ellsworth AFB, MT**

Chuck and Ellie sat at a picnic bench in the 'family area' of the base. It was a large playground and picnic area and since it was a duty day and a school day they had it to themselves – and 5 security guards who were 'securing the asset'.

"Chuck, is this what your life is going to be like for the next 20 years? This is…like prison."

"No, it's more like a 'safety zone'. The walls keep people out, not in and the guards are there for our protection. I don't know how long I'll be here. If all they wanted was what I can do with my head they wouldn't have wasted time on PT and training. It's OK, Ellie. I don't mind it. I pretty much can do anything I want within reason. Don't worry about it. It's not permanent."

She told him about Carina Hansen's 'visit' and he just nodded. "Be careful what you say. Develop a cover for your trips here but mostly just stick to living life as if I was dead. It'll make things easier."

The remaining 4 hours of 'visitation' were filled with pregnant silences, uncomfortable bursts of dialogue and a total and utter absence of joy for either of them.

"Ellie, it's time to go. I'll see you in a couple of months. Listen, sis, if you don't get an 'invitation' for a while, don't worry. It just means I'm moving on in my training. And don't sweat the eye, Ellie. You're a doctor. You know they'd have done everything in their power to save it."

They hugged each other at the guard shack and then Casey drove her to the airport to make her connections back to L.A. Ellie was silent most of the trip until the Rapids City airport turnoff and then she exploded.

"Why? Why the hell are you doing this to him? He deserves better treatment. He was a hero, for Christ's sake and you're treating him like a damned criminal. How long, Casey? How long will he be kept underground? Until his usefulness ends? Then what? You'll kill him and write him off?"

"I don't know how long he'll be here. He's in training and he works his magic and he's getting stronger. He's learning to defend himself and he's learned to use that damned cane of his like some people use guns. No one's going to shoot him, Ellie. He's free to come and go with limits. He's just never asked to leave. I think he feels safe here. He's not going to be killed, he's too damned valuable."

"If anything happens to my brother, Major, recordings of everything that's happened have already been distributed to people we trust and the truth will come out. In these times, people will believe it. The time of 'I love the government' is over, Major. Don't let him miss a phone call or a visit. It could be hazardous to your career and health."

"Ellie, don't do anything stupid. He's made his choice. Accept it."

"Choice? He was unconscious and almost dead. YOU made the decisions for him. You and that fucking hag of a general. Just remember what I said. He's all I have left. Nothing better happen to him, Major. You spies are an incredible bunch of sociopaths, lying your way into people's hearts and then destroying them for what?"

She got out and slammed the door and went into the departure lounge. Only time would tell if she'd made her point.

* * *

**Two Months Later  
****US Embassy  
****Bangkok, Thailand**

"You got your eyeball cam in place, Ethan?" Heather was his 'date' for the afternoon cocktail party. They were attending a 'Reconciliation Day' soiree at the newly opened embassy of the People's Republic of China. Chuck's cover was as a visiting paleontologist who was hoping to gain favor and permission to conduct a dig in China's Gobi Desert. The current ambassador was an amateur 'digger' and was known to have influence. The mission was to exchange a piece of technology for a computer disk with the PLA Navy's order of battle from one of the Chinese intelligence agents who worked both sides of the line.

The eyeball cam was his idea. He had been fitted with an artificial eye for cosmetic purposes but got to wondering and tinkering and after getting Beckman's OK, he had the IT section develop a miniaturized helmet cam. Everything he saw was transmitted to a commo van where Casey was monitoring all traffic.

"Casey, do we have commo yet?" He spoke into his sleeve.

"Yeah, and I got a good image of Heather's cleavage, Brand. Keep your eyeballs in the game." Heather laughed.

"Casey, that was my fault. I was adjusting his bowtie and he had to lean down. Don't be so possessive. Besides, he had his good eye closed. Ethan's a gentleman."

"Humph. Try to minimize the blinking, Agent Brand. The flickering makes me nauseous." Casey had expanded his repertoire to include various 'harrumphs' and other non-grunting non-verbal communications.

**PRC Embassy  
****Bangkok, Thailand**

An embassy limo drove them to the PRC embassy and they presented their invitations to the guards and went inside. Heather was nervous and kept wiping her hands on Ethan's dinner jacket sleeve.

"Heather, please. You're safe with me. I won't take advantage of you. I'm not Casey." He figured Casey was smashing something in anger about now.

"I know, I know. It's just that this is like 'enemy territory' and it's my first mission."

"Chill out, Parker. Brand knows what he's doing. This isn't his first time at the dance." Casey wasn't above a little snarking when he could and knowing they couldn't really respond made it even better.

"OK, there's our guy. I've got the jammer palmed and ready. Let's head out to the balcony. He should follow us." He leaned on his cane more so than normal. It had been a long day and his knee was killing him.

Across the room, an agent of the DEA was cozying up to a Laotian embassy official, trying to get invited to his summer place in the mountains. She needed an excuse to set up monitoring devices along the trails so that satellites could monitor drug traffic and destinations for the harvested raw opium. She almost dropped her champagne flute when she looked casually across the room and spotted someone she thought she recognized.

"Casey, mission accomplished. We're going to make a run at the Ambassador and sell the cover and then we're out of here. I'm scanning the guests in the main room. Record and we'll review the tapes back at the hotel."

* * *

**Bangkok Hilton  
****Bangkok, Thailand**

An hour later they were back at the Bangkok Hilton, sitting in the bar and doing a quick debriefing. It had run like clockwork.

"Brand, good mission. Heather, you have to relax and enjoy things. Sweaty palms are not a good sign for an agent. Ethan, sometime later, much later, swing by the room and we'll see what you can flash on the scanned guests. That cam is a great addition to our tool box."

"Yeah. Call me. I'm going to shower and pop a pain pill and then catch a quick nap so take your time, old man." Heather giggled. Her relationship with John was private but Ethan knew and approved. He'd pushed them together figuring someone deserved some happiness out of all this.

* * *

**Chuck's Suite  
****Bangkok Hilton**

He was toweling his hair dry and walked naked and damp into the bedroom of his hotel suite.

"Hello, Chuck. For a dead man you look pretty damned healthy to me."

Ah, shit, her!

"Carina, I won't ask how you got in. Now, unless you want to see me naked for old times sake, please leave the way you came in. I'm tired and hurting and you're in my way."

He didn't wait for an answer. He sidestepped her and just dropped the towel and walked over to his bag and pulled out clean boxers. He heard her gasp but didn't care. She was just another spy bitch with her own agenda.

"What happened to you, Chuck?" She saw that the cane was not just for his cover and she could see signs of surgical incisions all over the left side of his body. The scars on his face made her shiver. He'd lost an eye, too, judging by the scars and the empty eye socket.

"I got snatched by some goons who were looking for Bryce and Sarah. Bryce and Sarah Larkin, to be exact. The Bryce and Sarah Larkin who got married two years earlier in Cabo. Stupid me wouldn't give them up and so they used an aluminum baseball bat and broke everything on my left side. But stupid me wouldn't give her up, wouldn't put her life in danger."

He fumbled with the knee brace. His hands were shaking in anger. He finally just threw the damned thing back in his bag. Carina took note and changed her approach.

"Chuck, you don't understand…"

"Oh, I understand. While I was making love to Sarah Walker for four months, she was fucking her mark. When I told her I'd love her always and forever, she figured that meant until I was used up or she got another assignment."

"Listen to me, Bartowski, you don't have all the facts!"

"It's Brand now, Ethan Brand. And while they beat me in that basement I heard her on the cell phone. She didn't deny she was married. She protected him, gave them false information and then they killed me, Agent Hansen, they bashed my skull in. Only I couldn't die, I could hear everything, everything! Then the cleaners shoved me, knowing I was alive, into my Herder and then drove it over a cliff. EMTs found me and here I am…a new man."

"Chuck, Sarah was hurt, shot, she almost died. She's…"

"NO! You don't get to excuse it. She was married and fucking her asset. She lied to me with every breath. And she never, ever tried to contact me, not once. So excuse me if I don't get all misty-eyed and weepy. It took me 2 months to stand, another two to walk. I've had 5 surgeries not counting the eye. I get five hours above ground every month. The rest of the time I'm down in the bottom of the world. This is a special deal. They needed me for this but I'll be back in Rapid City tomorrow and back in the hole."

"Damn it, Bartowski, let me…"

"Brand, Ethan Brand. Bartowski's dead. All his friends think he's dead. His family thinks he's dead. HE thinks he's dead. Now get out!"

He shoved her out the door and sat on the bed and cried for the first time in ages. Seeing her brought back memories he'd buried in a shallow grave. He promised himself he'd dig a deeper grave.

* * *

Carina leaned against the door and listened to him weep. Now she understood why he was so bitter. He probably used the intersect but couldn't find her and she'd left no hint of her real identity. She'd resigned as Elizabeth Reynolds because Sarah Walker was just an alias for a job named Project Bartowski. He thought she'd moved on to another assignment or gone back to Bryce Larkin. She cursed her sister for being such an excellent operative.

She came here prepared to hate him and now all she wanted to do was hold him and make everything all right again. Sighing raggedly, she took out her lock pick set and was inside the room again in less than 10 seconds.

She slipped off her cocktail dress and slid under the sheets and pulled the broken man to her and held him while he cried. Jessica Reynolds closed her eyes and cried too.

* * *

She left him sleeping restlessly in his room a few hours later and turned and walked straight into John Casey. He was reaching for his weapon when he recognized her.

"What are you doing here, Hansen? You have no business here. Your presence here is endangering our mission. Couldn't you find someone else at the party to sleep with? He doesn't need another spy bitch in his life. One was enough." The bitterness was almost palpable in his voice.

"John, I thought I recognized him from the PRC party and I followed his limo back here and…I had to know if it was Chuck I'd seen. It's personal with us."

His face got dangerously red and she hurried on with her explanation. "I stopped by Burbank a few months ago to see Sarah and…you. Everyone said he was dead, and you and Sarah were gone. I talked with his sister and it was all too pat but I was at a dead end and then I saw him here…" She didn't mention calling her sister. That was the 'personal' part and Casey had no 'need to know'.

"So you just stopped by for a friendly fuck and now that you're done with him you're going to slither back under your rock, huh? Typical Carina Hansen. Fuck 'em and forget 'em."

She was fast. He never saw it coming. The slap turned his head and rocked him back on his heels. When he refocused on her, she was crying.

"Carina…" He reached for her and she stepped into his open arms and just held on.

"Casey, she thinks he's dead. He couldn't have found her if he tried and I know he did. She took medical retirement under her real name. 'Sarah Walker' was never real. Her father wasn't a con artist. She had such a deep cover identity that it would take a CIA analyst to put the pieces together. Nothing about her was ever in the intersect. She thinks he's dead and she's having his baby any day now. He thinks she doesn't care, that she's back with Larkin or on another assignment. How could you let him suffer so?"

"This is all news to me. She admitted she was married to Larkin but Larkin had been making booty calls since she got to Burbank. She was just working her mark, Carina. She never gave up Larkin and it killed Chuck."

"Did you know he was conscious the entire time, right up until he got on the evac helicopter? He couldn't move, talk or anything. He heard everything. You all thought he was dead but a cleaner tech knew he was alive and didn't do anything about it. They just stuffed him in his car and drove it over a damned cliff!"

"So what? It's all history. He's recovering and he's moved through agent training despite his handicaps. He's ready for fieldwork. It's what he wants. He holes up in a bunker in Rapid City between missions. All he does is work. He's bitter and he hates so much so deeply now. He's perfect for Beckman's purposes because he doesn't care anymore. He's got nothing to lose."

"He's going to have a daughter he'll never know. He'll never know the woman who cries for him and hates herself for being too late to save him and for never telling him how much she loved him. He'll lose out on all that."

"I think it's too late for them. He's changed. He's cold, unfeeling. He never shows emotion unless it's anger or impatience. It's too late for them just like it was too late for us. You need to go, Carina."

"Never shows emotion? Who do you think I've been holding and rocking for the past two hours while he cried, Casey? He's so heartbroken and lonely and he has lost all hope. I could kill her sometimes. She was such a paranoid perfectionist. Never leaving clues to her real identity. Not even Bryce knew until after they were married."

"That dirt bag was banging Walker while she was using Bartowski, keeping him in compliance. I tell you, it's too late for them. She crushed him. It's taken this long for him to recover. Leave him alone, Carina."

"It's _not_ too late for them. All they need is to reconnect. He still loves her and adores her. She's grieving for a dead man who stays just down the road from her. She's been just outside of Casper all this time, Johnny. Just down the road. Please, give them a chance. Give them what we never had, John Casey, a second chance."

John took a note book from his coat pocked and scribbled down a cell phone number and gave it to her. "It's his new cell number. Don't give it out to anyone you can't trust with your life. Bad people are still looking for him and the Larkins."

"No. Keep it. Here's her name, address and a landline for the house. She's back home with her folks. Don't involve them, Johnny. They're civilians and just know she worked for the government." She wrote it on his note and pushed it into his coat pocket.

"I have to go. I'm meeting a mark for a late dinner. Take care of him, Johnny. Give him the chance to at least decide what he wants to do."

* * *

While the team was flying back to the US, Elizabeth Reynolds went into labor prematurely but successfully delivered a baby girl.

Casey sat behind a dozing Ethan Brand and debated about giving his young friend the note in his coat pocket. He'd been denied a second chance and it had been for the best. He looked over at his partner and smiled. Things had a way of working out for the best.

* * *

_A/N: Coming up: Baby tales, cattle rustlers, Chuck's new identity creates waves and a really crappy attitude, Carina gets in serious trouble and Casey plays with everyone's future and there's trouble ahead for the youngest partner._


	6. Too Late

Lovein3parts6

A/N: Some of you are struggling with the question 'whose baby is it?' I suggest you reread the chapters. Also, each of these characters has their own limited knowledge with only Sarah/Liz knowing the truth. I hope that clarifies or confuses you more. My job is to entertain. Your job is to understand what I mean by 'entertain'. Bwahaha. Nik still counting the damned Vicodin. Someone email me some.

Kudos to Lucky713. Wiki Ethan Brand.

* * *

**Converted Titan II Missile Complex  
****Ellsworth AFB, MT**

"Johnny, you have to give him the note. He needs to have options. You see how depressed he is. This whole bunker environment sucks for us and we can always go topside, to our apartment or just anywhere we want. He's stuck down in the bowels of this silo doing nothing but working or beating the crap out of one of the security team and they're tired of sparring. He needs some choices in his life."

He never should have mentioned Hansen's note. He hadn't had any peace since. Heather was such a closet romantic and she worked on him every waking minute or so it seemed.

"Tell you what. I'm going to give this to Chuck and tell him Carina says Walker's there. That's all I'm going to do. If he wants to leave the base, that's fine as long as his security detail goes with him…in a separate vehicle. That's the best I can do. I won't tell him what to do. I'll just explain his options and then it's his problem to handle as he sees fit."

"That's all I asked for a week ago, John. Jesus, you're the most stubborn man I've ever met."

"Then you haven't really talked with him. He's the picture in the dictionary under 'stubborn'. You just haven't gone up against him once he either sets his mind to something or digs in his heels."

"Maybe I should spend more time with him. Maybe cheer him up with some one-on-one time? He _is_ my partner now."

"I'll go right this damned minute. And then it's his problem. I don't want this getting between us, Heather. It's not our problem." He pushed himself up from his office chair and stormed out of the office heading for the elevator and the bottom level.

She laughed at his departing back. Men were so easy to control.

* * *

Stepping out of the elevator onto 'Ethan Brand's Level' as it was fast becoming known throughout the complex, he imagined he could feel the air thicken under the vast pressure generated by the amount of earth above it. He was sure the size of the tubular corridors and the very rooms themselves were smaller although he knew everything was exactly the same on each level.

He nodded to the security guard sitting at the console and was admitted through the barred blast portal. His footsteps sounded louder down here and the damp air gave him an uncomfortable feeling. He half expected water to be dripping from the ceiling in places.

He knocked on his door and waited for the red light to turn green, a concession to the illusion of privacy for him. All Casey really had to do was swipe his ID and the door would open but he felt it was important to maintain at least the idea of privacy.

The light changed to green and Casey swiped his card and walked in. Chuck, aka Ethan Brand, was working on something on a huge white board he'd had installed last week.

"Hey, John. What brings you down here into the bilges? We finally have another mission?" The daily intel intercepts had been worthless lately and Chuck always got surly when he was bored.

"No. I uh I ran into Carina in Bangkok. She was coming out of your room. And she gave me something for you."

"Casey, if she gave you a kiss for me, keep it." He made a face and went back to his board. He didn't want to think about Bangkok. He'd really felt the pieces fly loose and he didn't want to think about what he might have done if Hansen hadn't returned.

"Chuck, it was a note. With a telephone number and address. It's in a little cattle town outside of Casper. That's in Wyoming, Chuck."

"I know where Casper is, Casey. So Carina finally screwed up and got banished? Let me guess, she wants me to come see her. No way. Go away, Casey. I'm right in the middle of figuring out how to get the iCam to change focus with a squinch of the old eye socket. That way we can zoom in or out as required. Pretty cool, huh?"

"Yeah, Chuck. Real handy. But it's Sarah Walker's address and phone number, Chuck, not Carina's. She's retired and living back with her folks on a ranch. Here's her address and landline number." He set the note on the worktable and then backed away like it might explode.

Chuck had stopped working and started staring at the wall after he heard "Sarah…"

"What am I supposed to do with it, John?" He turned and faced him. The honesty of the question surprised Casey and made him very cautious.

"Call her, Chuck. Settle things between you. You still love her and she's getting a divorce. You two had something special, Chuck. Don't lose it because you're too damned proud or vain to see her. Take a few days off and drive over. If nothing else, getting out of this piss tube and into the sun will do wonders for your attitude."

"Just like that. 'Hey, Dad, can I borrow the car and 150 soldiers? I got a date'?"

"Yeah, Chuck, just like that. Your security detail will be following you in a separate car. You'll need to have a weapon, GPS transponder and a radio. You're still the intersect."

"I'll – I'll think about it. I just don't know if I want to start all that up again. It's been nearly a year, John. She never tried to see me, contact me, write me, email me, send smoke signals, hell, anything. That says a lot, doesn't it?"

"Not if she's be under the impression you died in that basement. Not if she thinks the father of her baby was murdered protecting her. Not if she was medically retired under her own name and had no way to find out where you were?"

"I said 'leave it, John'. I'll think about it."

"Chuck, you're still the same guy, just a little more experienced."

"Am I, Casey? I'm missing something. When I went away and came back, I don't think all of me made the return trip. And look at me." He turned to stare at Casey, the eye patch off and the socket glaring in its emptiness.

"I think all you're missing is her, Chuck. As for the hole in your face – it adds a certain amount of character."

Chuck looked down at what he was working on and sighed. "Leave it – wait – what baby?"

"Took you long enough." He laughed.

"What baby, Major." His tone was quiet but lethal sounding.

"When they brought her out of the operating room the doc said she would be fine but would lose field agent status and that the fetus was OK. Figure it out, Pops."

"Why now, Casey? Why didn't you tell me about the baby before?"

"It would have eaten you up, Chuck. You'd have been crazy in a week looking for her and according to Carina _no one_ can find her. And you weren't in any shape to worry about anyone but you."

"OK, leave the note. I'll think about it. Seriously. Maybe I could just call her, say hi, and see what happens."

"Yeah, or you could just spend 2 hours in a car and see her."

"Fine. I'll…go sometime this week or - or maybe next if nothing comes up."

"Nothing will come up, son. It's your time. You're going tomorrow. I'll alert the travel squad."

* * *

**Hodge, Wyoming**

He'd only been here twice before and memory played tricks on you after years of being away. It was even smaller than he'd remembered and the occasional man on a horse still appeared in the main street. Hodge, Wyoming, home of nothing special and surrounded by nothing at all, just plains and foothills and cows. Oops, cattle. He wouldn't make that mistake again.

He drove twelve more miles on the two-lane road and then took the side road to the Reynolds place. He drove two more miles and then passed under the marquee gate and then across the cattle gate and up the straight and dusty road to the house. It was a two-story turreted affair and looked out of place here in the middle of …here.

He stopped the car, waited for the dust to settle and then grabbed the thick manila envelope and walked up onto the porch and knocked. It was time to get this over with.

Rachel Reynolds was surprised to see Bryce Larkin standing on her verandah looking just as young and handsome as the last time she'd seen him. The only difference was that now she didn't have to maintain a façade of pleasantness.

"What do you want, Mr. Larkin? She's lying down. She was up late last night."

"Could I wait for her? I have some papers for her to sign and then I'll be out of your hair for good. How have you been, Rachel? You're looking well."

"I'll be a lot better when I see the back of you, Bryce Larkin. I suppose you can come in. I'll wake her."

When her mother woke her and told her 'Bryce is here, Liz, with some papers to sign' she thought she was dreaming but she repeated it in a hushed voice to avoid waking the newest member of the household.

"'K, I'll be down in a second. Need to get dressed. Gimme five minutes."

Bryce hugged her and kissed her on the cheek and she stepped back away from him and motioned for him to sit. "You brought the papers? Finally? You could have simply mailed them. I wrote your attorney and provided a new address. You didn't have to come all this way."

"Well, I did and here they are. Sign them and I'll take them back to my attorney."

"No. I'll sign them and mail them back to _my_ attorney. I don't want any surprises, Bryce. I want this done."

"Why the hurry? Got someone else lined up already?" He was being cruel. He still loved her, wanted her, had to possess her and the thought of her loving someone else made him a little mean and crazy.

"Give me the papers. I'll sign them and Mom can witness my signature and you can be on your way. Have a good life, Bryce. Stay safe…and stay away from me and my sister."

He pushed the papers across to her and watched her sign them and as her mother witnessed them he asked her for a few moments alone. He had some things he wanted to tell her and he wanted a few moments of privacy with her.

Her mother nodded as Liz glanced towards the back bedroom and then got up and went and retrieved her daughter. She was so proud of Charlie and wanted to show her off to Bryce. Together, the three of them walked out the kitchen door into the yard and walked back to the barn.

Rachel Reynolds smiled and nodded. Soon her daughter would be rid of Bryce Larkin and maybe then she could start to live again. She'd been so sad these past 3 months but now seemed to have emerged from her pregnancy stronger and happier. Most of that was due to Charlie, of course.

* * *

Chuck pulled up in front of the house in his government Ford. He'd instructed his security detail to 'vanish' when he turned up the private road to the house. He knew they were only 3-minutes away at the most but he wanted the illusion of being alone.

There was another car there with rental tags and he wondered if Carina had shown up. Not giving it much thought, he got out, pulled his cane from the back seat and made his way to the front porch and verandah of the house. He was overdressed but he felt more confident dressed in a suit and tie than in jeans and a sweatshirt. Maybe it was the layers of clothing that provided the security. He didn't know and really didn't care. He was comfortable and that was that. Besides, he couldn't very well hide a 9mm under a t-shirt no matter how TV showed it. It was too damned uncomfortable.

He walked up the steps, carefully avoiding anything that would put him on his ass, and knocked at the door. A woman of about 50 answered his knock and smiled at him and asked if she could help him. Sarah would look like this in 20 years or so. He smiled at her and at the thought.

"Yes, ma'am. Is Sar…I mean Elizabeth here, ma'am? I'd like to see her if I could. I mean if she's not busy with…stuff." He sounded so lame he blushed. He noticed her looking at him, and he got uncomfortable. Maybe this was a mistake.

"Liz is out back with Bryce and the baby. I'll go get her. Please come in and have a seat. Can I get you anything to drink while you wait?"

"Bryce…Bryce Larkin? He's here?"

"Why, yes. He and Liz are…" She stopped talking and looked at the man in front of her. Tall, curly hair, nice build, brown eyes, nice smile when he first saw her, obviously nervous and rambling, large hands…suddenly looking like he wanted to bolt back to his car.

Chuck closed his eyes and sighed. Too late. Got to get out of here. This was a mistake. Don't want or need to see her…not with Bryce.

"Ma'am, I'm sorry. I made a mistake. This was a mistake. Here, give this to her. It's hers…I…she…I'm sorry. I'm sorry to have bothered you." He unbuttoned a button on his shirt and reached in and jerked the chain from around his neck, not caring that he broke the fine gold links, and handed it to her and turned and walked away, back toward his car. He was very careful going down the stairs. He definitely didn't want to have a fall delay his escape.

He was too late.


	7. Where Have You Been Mr Bartowski?

Lovein3parts7

* * *

Rachel Reynolds looked at the broken chain with the crucifix and at the charm she'd given her daughter when she was five years old. She said she'd given it to her Chuck but…

"Wait! Please, wait. Chuck! Don't go, please."

He stopped when he heard his name called but only for a second. He had to get away. He didn't want to see them together, a family. He'd rather lose his other eye than carry that visual memory around for the rest of his miserable life.

He was pretty fast on 'three legs' but Rachel was faster on two and she passed him and positioned herself between Chuck and his car. Now he knew where Sarah got her 'I will be obeyed' look from.

"What kind of man are you? What kind of man runs away from a woman who loves him and his own child? Why now? Where the hell have you been? She was told you were dead."

"I – I couldn't find her. Sarah Walker disappeared. No trace. I was so angry when I heard she was married to him while…then she lied to protect him and they… I couldn't find her. I looked and looked, used the inter...every means I could think of. But she never tried to find me either. I thought she'd gone deep cover with her husband. I – I never knew where she was until yesterday. I never knew she was pregnant with Bryce's baby."

"But where have you been?"

"Hospital. Bunker. Prison. Hell. Carina told Casey when we were in Bangkok. Two weeks ago. He told me yesterday. I came today. Too late. She's with _him_… I have to go. 'Always and forever'. Guess she couldn't wait. Please, I don't want to see them together. Too much."

He couldn't catch his breath. He had to leave, to get out of there before he saw them together. He'd done the math. The baby wasn't his. Couldn't have been his. One more lie from a spy. No surprise there.

He looked like he was having a panic attack. So this was Chuck Bartowski. Definitely a step up from that asshole Bryce Larkin.

She put her hand on his arm to stop him from leaving. She felt how he was trembling. She could only imagine what he was thinking. Of all the times for that bastard to come back…

"Charlie is _your_ daughter, Chuck, born a month premature but she's healthy and happy. Your Sarah is my Elizabeth. Come back to the house with me. I'll send that ass away and then you and Liz, I mean, oh, hell, Chuck. Just come in and sit in the living room while I throw Larkin out. He brought the divorce papers and she's free now. Please?"

Chuck sat in the 'guest chair' and waited, nervously fiddling with his cane. He wanted to leave. He wanted back in the safety and security of his bunker hole. He was broken, scarred, and she was so perfect. What if what he looked like now repulsed her? She was perfection and he was a broken gargoyle of a man.

Rachel Reynolds kept an eye on Chuck while her daughter and her ex-husband walked around saying their goodbyes. She could see he was nervous and ready to bolt again at any second. Where the hell were they and what was taking so damned long to say, 'see ya around, asshole'? She blushed and then chuckled.

His cell phone vibrated in his pocket and he levered himself upright to take the call. It was Casey.

"Brand, secure but in public."

"Casey. Sorry, Chuck. Mission. A chopper will be there to pick you up in 30 minutes. I'm sorry. Plan on being gone at least a week. Heather's packing you a bag. We'll see you at the helipad. Your detail will take care of your car. Bad luck, Chuck. We'll make it up to you. Tell her you'll drop in on her in a week. I'll fly the bird myself."

Rachel couldn't help but eavesdrop on Chuck's side of the conversation; he was yelling, obviously upset and angry with someone.

"NO! Not now. Not today. John, this sucks. I've waited… it's been…shit! OK! I heard you the first time. There's a large clear area in front of the house. Land there. I'll be in the house. Bring my spare eyes, John. This one is ulcerating. Thirty minutes."

He looked over and saw her mother standing there with a look of dismay on her face. "I'll go get her, Chuck. I wasn't eavesdropping but I heard. You have to go. Wait here. I'll throw him out and then you can see your daughter." She smiled and looked so much like Sarah that it hurt.

He heard the back door slam and her mother call for her. He looked at his watch and sighed.

Rachel Reynolds ran to where her daughter, granddaughter and the asshole were standing.

"Bryce, you have to go. Something's come up. Elizabeth, here. Hold this. Bryce, move. There's company in the living room, Elizabeth. Don't be rude, Bryce. You've definitely overstayed your welcome. Liz, see to your guest but put her back down for her nap first."

She stared down at what her mother had put in her hand and gasped. Their eyes met and then she watched as her mother pushed Bryce back into the house and out the front door.

Company in the living room. She looked at the broken chain, his crucifix and her charm. She looked at her daughter already yawning and fussing. Definitely nap time.

He heard the back door open and close and then watched as Rachel Reynolds practically pushed Bryce Larkin out of the house and down the steps.

He grinned and checked his watch again. 25 minutes. He had 25 minutes.

He heard a gasp and looked over at the doorway. He smiled and felt the backpressure of tears forming. He walked over to her, still smiling. He felt her eyes rake over him, cataloguing, assessing, and comparing this man to the one in her memory.

"I just found out where you were yesterday. I got here as quickly as I could. And I have to leave again in 25 minutes. Do you…I mean…am I too late?"

"They told me you were dead. I heard Casey in the basement when I was almost unconscious. I woke up in a CIA facility and I couldn't reach your phone or his. They'd been disconnected. I didn't know I was pregnant until I talked to the doctor after they operated. It's your baby, Chuck. She's yours and mine. I never cheated on you with Bryce. There were no 'booty calls'. He was fighting the divorce. I didn't love him. I never loved him. I only ever loved you. I tried to tell you that night but…"

"Shhh. Where is she? What did you call her?"

"I put her down for a nap. She's definitely yours, baby. Charlie Bartowski is definitely yours. I think she looks a lot like Ellie."

"Charlie? You named her 'Charlie'?"

"Charahleigh Jessica Bartowski. I merged our first names and added Leigh. Jessica is my sister's name. Bartowski, well, that's her daddy's name and mine someday soon. I love you, Chuck. Always and forever."

"You named her 'Charlie'?" He couldn't get the smile off his face. He'd never been this happy before.

"Yes, Chuck." She was worried he disapproved even though he was smiling.

"I love it. Can I see her? Please?" He was running out of time. Any minute now that damned chopper would swoop down and take him away from where he wanted to be more than anywhere else in the world.

Chuck looked at his daughter who stared sleepily at the blurred image that had the audacity to awaken her. She yawned and nuzzled at her mother's breast, instinctively seeking a nipple through her t-shirt.

"She's beautiful, just like her mother. She has the same little pout on her lips when she sleeps." Sarah lowered her back into the crib. He couldn't take his eyes off his daughter.

Sarah stared at Chuck. He looked older, harder. His smile seemed dimmer and his eyes, there was something wrong with his eyes. They didn't seem to…her hands flew to her mouth and then she ran a finger down the scar, tracing the outline of his eye socket.

"What's wrong? Oh, yeah. Um, I normally wear a patch. It's, well, it's not…I mean…"

She kissed him, lips barely touching and whispered softly, whistfully, "I know. Doesn't matter. Not at all. You were dead. Now you're not. Simple. I missed you. Now I don't. Simple. I like simple now. I like normal now. I want you in my life from now on. I want our daughter to know her daddy. I want my folks to know you. It's simple, sweetheart. From now on, it's simple."

Their first kiss after 7 months was simple, almost chaste. She sighed into his mouth and ran her fingers through his hair, feeling the raised scars from his ordeal.

He broke off the kiss and wiped the tears from her eyes and then just hugged her to him and whispered, "I have to go, Sarah. Sorry, Elizabeth. A mission. A week, 10 days at most, then I'm coming back."

"Where are you operating out of? I can move, Chuck. I want to be near you. My folks will understand."

"I'm in a bunker in…"

"What! Oh, no. I'll…I'll find a way to spring you, Chuck. I'll get you out. Do you know where it is? Damn them! No. No. You're not going back. We'll run. I know places they'll never look and we'll be safe."

"Stop, please. You don't understand. I'm based in a missile silo complex on an Air Force Base at Rapids City. Just a couple of hours away. I'm not really a prisoner. I can pretty much come and go but I stayed because I had no place to go and no one I wanted to see except Ellie and she came to see me. Don't worry."

There was a knock at the door and Rachel Reynolds interrupted them.

"Chuck, someone is here for Agent Brand. I assume that's you. I left him out on the front porch. You two can slip out the back. Liz, take the jeep, head for the old line shack. I'll bring Charlie tonight…"

"Mrs. Reynolds, it's OK. They're my protective detail. Really, there's no threat here. Hell, you're probably one of the safest places I can be right now. Really, it's OK. Tell him I'll be right there."

"Sar…Liz, I gotta go. I'll be back. I want you to meet my new partner and see Casey again. You'll like Heather and Casey hasn't changed at all."

"Heather? Your partner is named '_HEATHER_'?" Little wisps of steam seemed to drift from her ears.

'_Oh, shit, oh dear, this is not good,'_ he thought.

"She's sleeping with Casey, Sarah. Don't be jealous. She's been rock solid when I needed her but Casey's definitely the only man in her life."

"I wasn't jealous. I wasn't…OK, I was jealous. You were alone and…"

"Hey, always and forever. I don't break my word. I have got to go. Take care of yourself and the little one. I'll be back as soon as I can. I love you both. I have so much to look forward to." He frowned and looked at her and then got a stern look on his face. "My baby girl is NOT following in our footsteps. I know a Catholic boarding school in the Pennsylvania mountains, Mt. Galitzen School for Girls. I'll make a reservation for her. And NO DATING until she's 25. We'll discuss the other no-nos when I get back. Love you."

He kissed her goodbye on the front steps and then made his way to the open area for pickup. He waved and she waved.

She watched as the Pave-Low landed and the crew chief saluted him and helped him aboard. He waved again and then the chopper took off.

"So that's him, Chuck Bartowski." Her mother came up behind her and put her arms around her. "He's a nice man, Liz. You Dad will approve. He's…nice." He was nice. And best of all, he obviously loved her daughter more than life itself. He'd be good to Liz and to Charlie and that was the really important thing.

"Mother…stop. He's more than nice. He's mine."

"Why did that crewman salute him?"

"I don't know. Weird. Agents don't rate salutes, only the one-fingered kind."

A/n: See, not so angsty. Now, if I don't kill him off, give the kid the colic or something equally horrible I only got 2 chapts left. APR


	8. Afghanistan is Cold My Mother the Spy

Lovein3parts8

**_A/N: This seems like a nice place to end Part 2_**

**_APR_**

* * *

As Chuck boarded the helicopter with the assistance of the crew chief, John Casey met him, grinning like a lottery winner. Always suspicious of a smiling John Casey, he looked around for the capture team he always associated with a smiling Casey.

"Take a seat, _Captain_ Brand. We're due in Portland where you'll receive your physical and go through a brief orientation before beginning your new assignment, _Captain_ Brand."

Chuck took a seat against the fuselage wall and stretched out his leg and massaged his aching knee. He should have worn the damned brace and to hell with the sound it made when he walked.

"OK, Major Casey, what's with the _'Captain_' crap?"

"Here're your orders, _Captain _Brand. All agents of the NSA carry military rank. You, being a computer geek and intersect host, are a captain in the US Army with all the rights and privileges pertaining thereto."

"Uh huh, what's the catch, Major? There's always a catch."

"Nope. You now get a paycheck, benefits, retirement, and a new cover. Because you're a gimp, you're on temporary duty, Chuck. Probably for the rest of your career."

He always referred to his limp and other associated problems as 'gimp stuff'. He'd never let him know that every time he saw Chuck try to run with his stiff gait or when he saw Chuck without his prosthetic eye or patch, he felt eaten up with guilt and remorse. He'd failed his asset. He would never forget his friend's face when he pulled the canvas bag off his head in that damned basement.

He'd never verified that Chuck was dead. He made an assumption that had probably cost Chuck his eye if the doctors were to be believed. Guilt was a powerful motivator.

"Um, so now I suppose you want me to salute you?"

"Only when you're in uniform. And that won't happen anytime soon. Trust me, you're not exactly the ideal recruiting poster. 'Join the Army, get maimed and blinded for your country'.

Chuck glanced over at his friend, shocked at the sarcastic vehemence in his tone.

"Casey, what's done is done. Let it go. I've got the perfect life now. I have a woman who loves me and wants to marry me, and a beautiful daughter who thankfully looks _nothing _like me. Life is good. I'm happy. You should be, too, Uncle John."

"Uncle John?" He looked quizzically at him and when Chuck nodded, Casey's smile was one he'd rarely seen – genuinely happy.

"Casey, you're going to hurt yourself you keep that up. It might become a habit. You wouldn't want that."

He frowned quickly, not wanting to seem too pleased. "That's MAJOR Casey, young Captain."

"So when do I get promoted?" He'd discovered a new hot button.

"You just got frocked. Don't push it. Beckman only did this because she finally realized that you have responsibilities beyond yourself. You have a family now and once you get married, the umbrella of the NSA will protect the wife and child. So, don't push it. It's something you've earned."

"Captain Brand. Wait until I tell Elizabeth about this." He waited for the inevitable Casey response. It wasn't long in coming.

"Elizabeth? Who the hell is Elizabeth? What about Walker? Bartowski, what have you done now?"

"I just met my future mother-in-law, too. Casey, Rachel practically had her foot up Bryce's ass kicking him out of the house. If I hadn't been so damned nervous I'd have laughed myself sick. She told him '_don't let the door hit ya where the good Lord split ya…and don't come back – asshole'_. She's a retired teacher and told me she didn't normally swear but that 'Larkin had pissed her off for years and she always held her peace but no more'."

"Bryce Larkin was there? What for? He didn't hassle you or anything, did he? You should have shot him and saved us all a lot of trouble?"

"He brought the divorce papers to Sarah Walker for her signature. She's handling the final steps with her attorney. She's free of the scumbag." Let Casey figure out who Elizabeth Reynolds really was.

He told Casey about almost leaving but that her mother stopped him from running away. The rest of the conversation was put on hold. It was too hard hearing over the sound of the rotors and neither one of them wanted to use the intercom system.

* * *

**FT Lewis, WA**

"Tell me again, Casey, that this mission is just for a week, 10 days at most?"

"The situation has changed, Brand, and so have our orders. Suck it up, young captain, you could be pulling a full tour…12 months."

"When's Heather due in with the damned spyglasses update? I hate those things. Head ached for a week last time."

"You only have one eye, Chuck, so it takes twice as long. The General had her IT guys specially adapt these, so it should be so painful this time around. She's due in this afternoon. You take the update, sleep all night and then we leave in the morning."

"Fine. The 6P rule applies, Casey. Or have you forgotten?"

"6P's? What the hell is that, some new nerdism?"

"Proper Planning Prevents Piss-Poor Performance."

"Asshole."

"That's Captain Asshole, Major. If I have to wear these funny PJ's I expect proper respect."

"They're BDUs, Chuck. Can't wear jeans and a t-shirt. You'd kinda stick out from the crowd and that's the last thing you want. People will think you're CIA. You'll get your own rucksack and a weapon and all the goodies before we emplane."

"And just how do we explain your girlfriend, John. I didn't get to bring mine." He'd talked to Sarah for two hours the previous night and he almost wished he hadn't. It was so damned hard leaving them and talking to her for two hours made the separation seem longer. She hadn't been pleased with the change in orders. Not pleased at all.

"Chuck, they can't do that to you. You still have the…the thing in your head and besides, you're practically blind and limp and, and, and it's not fair. I want you home, here, with Charlie and me. Chuck, I miss you. Maybe I can get Beckman to include me in the team for just this one time. I have a bad feeling about this, baby, and…"

"And just who is medically retired and has a baby to feed and take care of and tell her lies about her daddy while I'm gone? No. I forbid it, Sarah um Liz. Besides, you have the ranch to run. Cows to punch. Ranges to ride. All that cowgirl stuff."

"Just get home in one piece. I can't believe the Hag is sending you to Afghanistan! Tell Casey I'll hunt him down and hurt him if anything bad happens to you. This sucks big-time."

"Yeah, but I get a month off when I get back. Thirty days of snuggling and…"

"And changing diapers, learning to give her a bath, and then we're going to take a long ride along the fences, Chuck, just you and me and a blanket and some wine…"

"You're killing me here, Liz. I'll have to talk to Casey about sharing his part…"

"You're a dead man, Charles, if you finish…Oh, Chuck, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean anything."

"It's OK. I have to go, Liz. Kiss Charlie and watch yourself out there on the open range. Don't let a cow punch you back."

* * *

**Afghanistan**

"Casey, tell me again why we're walking through the mountains with a bunch of locals we can't communicate with? And why couldn't we just hop on a chopper and fly there?"

"Chuck, I told you, we're caravanning to a remote location to interview some defectors. There are some high-valued targets we want you to identify. Choppers don't have the range at these altitudes. It's either by foot or pony and they aren't available. Suck it up and shut up."

"Casey, what's more remote than where we are now? It's been 3 days and my knee thinks it's in that basement again. How much farther is it?"

"40 klicks, about 25 miles. We'll be there tomorrow evening for sure. The going gets easier up ahead. Now, shut up and walk. And before you ask, no, I won't carry you."

* * *

**Khalot  
****Afghanistan**

"Chuck, you have got to be faster and surer of yourself. Try it again. Visualize it and then do it.'

"Casey, we're supposedly noncombatants and you told me this area was secure. What are we doing here? We've been here 3 days and all we've seen has been these Marines and these mud walls. Where are the defectors?"

"Chuck, we were…misinformed. I've been trying to get a signal through to Beckman but with these mountains it's not going to happen. Khalot is in the valley and these baby Himalayas are blocking our signals. We'll give it another 3 days and then try and catch a log bird back to the base. Now, do it again." Casey had Chuck doing maintenance on his rifle, practicing changing magazines until he could do it without conscious thought and familiarizing him with some of the more esoteric of the Marines' weapons.

Casey had talked with the Marine commander and knew that the bad weather was creating problems with resupply and caravans passing through the mountain pass.

The captain had bluntly told Casey that he didn't have any time or inclination to escort a 'bunch of pencil-pushing spies on a junket' through the mountains. They'd have to wait for the log bird on its resupply run. They almost came to blows but the captain's mission was not Casey's and he understood orders.

It snowed and snowed and all they could do was hole up in their stone hut and wait out the storm. Chuck was highly pissed that '7 days, 10 at the most' had turned into 15 days and counting. He was driving Casey crazy with questions designed to, well, drive Casey crazy. He blamed all this on Casey.

* * *

The first mortar rounds exploded at exactly 3am. Fire patterns concentrated first on the barracks, switching to the commo bunker after several on-target rounds reduced the barracks to rubble. Casey dragged Chuck out of his sleeping bag and they both ran for their 'assigned fighting position'.

It was snowing and the wind was whipping the snow into blinding sheets and neither of them could see a thing. "Casey, this is just a probe, right? A little harassment by fire, right?"

"Quiet. Watch your front. The Marines are pros at this. We're just shoring up a part of the wall. It's probably just harassment. If it was more than that, there'd be a lot more crap falling out of the sky."

Prophetic words.

Thirty minutes later the mortars stopped as suddenly as they'd started. The huts the Marines used as a 'barracks' were most rubble as were the commo bunker and the 'dispensary' where the Marines had been whamming the locals with medical help while talking up the government and listening to complaints and the occasional gem of a true piece of intelligence.

It continued to snow. They spent the time in 'bunkers' on the wall, waiting. When the ground assault came it was sudden and unexpected. Later estimates were that 400 'Taliban insurgents' had overrun the Marines' position and that only close-air support kept the insurgents from routing the Marines. 8:1 odds did not favor the Marines but they held on until relieved.

Three days later a flight of 4 helicopters carried the Marines and two frostbitten NSA spies back to the main base. It had all been for nothing. Well, not totally for nothing, Chuck could now field strip an M16 in the dark and reassemble it correctly, clear routine jams and swap magazines as fast as a Marine.

* * *

**Reynolds Ranch  
****Hodge, Wyoming**

True to his word, although somewhat tardy, Casey landed the Jet Ranger helicopter in the pasture opposite the house and Chuck grabbed his bags and limped over to the house. It was 8am and he was surprised that no one was up, especially with a baby in the house. All the doors were locked as was the barn and the other outbuildings.

'_Maybe they went to town for groceries or something?'_ He debated phoning her but decided to surprise her when she returned. Loosening the brace on his knee, he took up a comfortable position on the porch and dozed in the winter sun. At least it wasn't snowing.

He woke to someone poking him in the ribs with a rifle. For a second he was back in Khalot, Afghanistan, and the screaming insurgent was trying to stick him with a bayonet. Casey would have been proud of him. Sarah was not.

He was straddling the 'insurgent' and frantically fumbling for his own bayonet when he realized that the screams were not Pushtu but English. He stopped his fumbling and listened.

"Chuck, stop. He's my dad. Chuck…" She was frantic and really loud.

He stopped immediately and focused on what he was doing. One hand was gripping the older man's hair while the other was preparing to bash the crap out of him. He rolled off him onto his back and sighed.

"Sorry. I'm so sorry. I thought you were a Taliban. Oh, shit. This is not good. I'm sorry. Maybe I should just go back to Rapid City. I – I…"

"Chuck, baby, it's OK. I've told him a hundred times to tread lightly when waking one of 'us' up but he never listens – like someone else I know."

Sarah helped him up, immediately noticing his split and chapped lips, the fading greenish-yellow bruise that decorated his forehead and the wind-burnt face. He'd been someplace cold and windy and definitely unfriendly.

"Chuck, this is my Dad, Mike. Dad, this is Chuck."

"We've met." Mike Reynolds had been an occasional visitor to the Bartowski household before his mom left.

"Yeah, Chuck, you could say that." He laughed and rubbed his neck and then shook Chuck's hand whispering "later" as he walked up the stairs.

They sat around the kitchen table while Chuck held his baby girl and told them all lies about 'Artic Training'.

Mike Reynolds had been around the block and knew it was a lie but also understood the reasoning behind it and so he said nothing.

Liz guessed immediately from Chuck's reaction that the mission, 'only 7 days, 10 at the most' had been someplace cold and unfriendly and she tabled it for later discussion. He'd been gone 22 days.

Rachel Reynolds just nodded her head, figuring correctly that she had no need to know. Her marriage had been peppered with such moments and with unexplained 'assignments out of town' for days at a time.

Dinner was relaxing and friendly although Mike would occasionally catch Chuck studying him, remembering and making connections. Liz caught the look a few times but dismissed it until after dinner and then Mike handed Chuck a beer and said, "Let's take a walk. I have questions about your intentions, Chuck." Then she started to worry.

They walked silently out to the barn and beyond.

"OK, you recognized me, even after all these years. You always were the quiet and observant one of Nat's kids. So, go ahead, ask me your questions. I'll tell you what I know. No 'need to know' crap, Chuck. It's been over for a long time."

"You were an agent. You were one of my dad's handlers, right? I remember all those evenings you two would take a six-pack into Dad's study and then you and my mother used to go for a drive. Comparing notes?" The bitter tone was not surprising.

"Chuck, I wasn't Steve's handler. I was your mother's debriefer. And friend."

"Wait, my mother was CIA, right? She was the honey trap that snared my Dad, kept him productive for the greater good." He couldn't help the sarcasm of the last phrase. He'd had almost 20 years to think about it and his relationship with Sarah had cemented his opinions.

"Your mother wasn't CIA, Chuck. Oh, no. Far from it." He chuckled.

"NSA, DIA, FBI? It doesn't matter now. None of it matters. That was a long time ago."

"Chuck, your mother was an agent, yes. But Chuck, she wasn't any of those you named."

"Then what was she?"

"Chuck, she was KGB."

* * *

**_A/N: And with that I take my leave_**.  
_**APR**_


	9. Revelations and Relationships Rethought

Lovein3parts9

**_A/N: I am in the groove and will try and finish this thing. I kept Chuck's mom's name the same as in another fic a one-shot._**

**_No comments on Ethan Brand? Too lazy or too dumb? LOL_**

* * *

**Part 3 – Love, marriage, birth, death, they got it all out of order.**

* * *

"My mom was a Russian agent? A KGB agent?"

"Yep. Your dad was doing some interesting things in optics that the Soviets thought might have some weapons applications and so Natalia, er, Natalie, was inserted into the US as a college student and tasked with seducing your father and getting him to defect. Well, your dad was nobody's fool and figured out right away that someone who looked like a model was not going to fall for a guy like him so he ratted her out to the FBI. Actually, he just reported her 'interest' and the Fibbies did an in-depth check and too many things didn't jive so they put a watch on her."

"You were FBI?" The similarities between his situation and Sarah Walker and his father with his mother were too close for comfort.

"Oh, no. CIA all the way. No, the FBI had domestic counterintelligence responsibility and so they watched and monitored. Your dad, not hearing anything bad back from the FBI, just went with the flow. They dated, she continued her studies and he shifted his concentration from laser optics to the thing in your head and the Sovs called Natalie home because he was no longer in an area they needed to know about."

"So, um, you know about…"

"Yeah. Diane told me when you knocked up my baby girl and then had the fucking nerve to 'die' on her. Man, I know it wasn't your fault but knowing you were alive and watching Lizzie die a little bit each day was hard but I never break my word. Not even for family. That's something we have in common, by the way."

Chuck looked at the ground, beer forgotten. Mike slapped him on the shoulder to get his attention. "I said it wasn't your fault. You never broke and you never gave up Sarah Larkin. All I knew was that you weren't dead. Hell, considering the mess they made of you I figured you for a retarded carrot if you lived at all and I couldn't saddle Lizzie with that. It just wouldn't have been right, Chuck."

"Yeah, I know. But I didn't know where she was. She had too deep a cover identity. I even met her 'father'."

"She's a twisted one, my Lizzie, and a bit paranoid, too, if you haven't noticed. Only her sister knew her real identity and she wrestled with telling you but after Bangkok, she felt she had no choice. You know she's been lusting after you for a long time. Glad you kept true to Lizzie. I'd have had to kill you." Somehow he didn't think Mike was joking.

"Wait, Carina Hansen is your other daughter? Oh, shit. I did sleep with her once, and only once. Sarah and I were on the outs, and she…was very persuasive."

"I know. Jessica told me. Not in any detail, just the basic facts. She's always been the wild one of the family."

"About my mom…"

"Yeah. The Soviets called her home but she'd fallen for old Steve in a big way and so she walked into the local FBI office and made a deal. She'd tell them anything they wanted to know and, in exchange, she got to stay here and be whatever she could be with your dad. No doubt about it, Chuck, she loved your dad."

"She walked out on us. On Mother's Day. Too bad it didn't extend to Ellie and I."

"Idiot! She didn't leave! She disappeared and the KGB probably killed her. It just about killed your dad but the idiots in the Agency decided it would be bad for their image to have lost a defector so they made you kids think she'd left you."

"And you…how were you involved?"

"I was her debriefer. I asked questions, she gave us answers. She was honest and kept her word. She graduated UCLA and went to Med School but never finished. Two kids and med school just made it too hard."

"I need to think about all this. It's not that I don't believe you it's just a lot to absorb. I want to talk with Sarah. I need…hell, my mom the Russian spy. Can I at least tell my sister that she didn't abandon us?"

"Uh, I don't know. I'll have to…hell, it was a long time ago. Tell her, but only her. And make sure she knows to keep her yap shut. Eleanor never could keep a secret."

"Can we talk about this again? I'm kind of blown away. I need…"

"Yeah, sure. Just know that I never would have let anyone hurt her or your dad or you kids. Now, go see my baby girl. You can tell her this. She's family. Knows the rules. Just don't be surprised if she's quiet for a while. There are parallels to her own life she might find unsettling."

"Why? Rachel's not a…oh, shit…your wife was…"

He laughed. "Sorry, that was mean. No, Rachel's from beautiful downtown Hodge, Wyoming. But she knows the basics of what I did. We just don't talk about it."

"So, I never asked you. I want to marry your daughter. I've got an income and a retirement plan and as soon as we're married the NSA drops an umbrella over them. Or is that a problem?"

"If you hadn't brought it up, I would have. Of course, marry the girl. Which one, though?"

"Now I know where Sarah gets her twisted mind from. Jesus, Mike, Liz, of course. Man, I'm definitely going to have to stay sharp as long as I'm here."

"Chuck, you're welcome to stay as long as you can, and if it's at all possible, ask Beckman to base you out of here. I'll show you some 'non-standard' farm equipment later." He smiled, shook Chuck's hand and then laughed.

"One down and one to go. Now, if Jess and her mystery man could ever hook up, my life would be a lot easier."

* * *

Later that night, after finally getting Charlie to sleep, Chuck and Liz cuddled up in front of the fireplace just enjoying being with one another. Her parents had been very blunt and told them that the soundproofing in the house was excellent, especially the first floor bedroom she'd been using. With grins and chuckles the Reynolds went to bed – upstairs.

"When I think of you I still think 'Sarah'. I'm having identity problems with this, woman. So, what'll it be? Sarah or Liz? I can adjust. I'm flexible."

"I plan on putting that flexibility to the test, sweetheart. I had my final post-delivery exam this morning – that's where we were. There's nothing holding us back. I've been without you for so long and I don't care what you call me. Whatever you're most comfortable with. Whatever you want to sigh in my ear when we make love."

"Chuck?"

"Chuck?"

He was asleep! Well, they had more than enough time to relearn each other. From the bruises on his face and arms and his reaction to her father's prodding of his ribs, he'd had an interesting mission. And his physical response had been classic Agency training. There had been more than rehab in the past months.

She threw a couple more logs on the fire and covered them with a wool blanket and snuggled up against the man she planned to spend the rest of her life with. There'd be other nights when he wasn't hurting. She liked this. It was simple and all she wanted in life was…simple.

He woke up when she crawled over him to go get their crying daughter and change and feed her. He followed her to the bedroom but stopped in the door way and just watched as his kick-ass ninja spygirl changed her baby's diaper, went into the kitchen to heat a bottle and then returned and sat on the edge of the couch and tried to get her to take the nipple but Charlie was fascinated by the flickering flames of the fire.

"Here, let me." Chuck sat down and took Charlie from her mom, laid back in the corner of the couch so that she could still see the flames and fed her, stopping periodically to burp her. Sarah ran to get a towel but it was too late.

"Sarah, your daughter just burped louder than Morgan and put her snack down my back. This is so not cool." He wasn't angry, just surprised and a little uncomfortable. He managed to pull off the t-shirt and wiped the mess up with it and then started feeding her again.

She had tears in her eyes as she watch her scarred…husband-to-be…feeding their baby as if it was totally second nature. She never fussed when he held her and she was fascinated by everything about him. He leaned over and motioned her to sit with him and she curled up and watched him and before she knew it, she was asleep.

"Look at that, Charlie. We bored her to sleep." She burped and grinned at him and then began seriously gnawing at her little fist quickly dropping off to sleep. He maneuvered Sarah so that her head was on his lap and situated Charlie so that he could hold them both, covered them and slept, his fingers curled gently in her hair.

It was dawn when the baby started fussing and Sarah woke and took her daughter from her sleeping father's arms. He woke immediately, a wild look in his eye when he realized Charlie wasn't there.

"Shh, baby, go back to sleep. I'll change her and feed her and be back before you know it."

She'd slept better than she had in months and knew it was because he was holding her. His presence calmed her. She'd been a nervous wreck when he'd been overdue. She was totally out of the loop and had no way of knowing what was going on, if he'd been hurt, killed, or worse, 'bunkerized' for his _own good_. She had to get back in the game, if only to be kept in the loop. She'd talk with Beckman. She'd listen. She'd _make_ her listen.

No. It wouldn't work. She knew how Beckman thought. The baby would be seen as a potential threat, a liability to be exploited by an enemy. She would use it as leverage against Chuck to make him subservient and compliant. She'd have to rethink her entire approach. Was it foolhardy to even try to establish a formal relationship with him given the terrible price he might have to pay?

* * *

_**A/N: Just a shorty. She's facing reality and he's clueless as to her doubts. Will it be the long-term Chuck wants or something else as Sarah comes to grips with the reality of being 'on the outside'. APR**_


	10. Sarah vs Elizabeth Reality Bites

Lovein3parts10

A/N: I think it's time for Sarah and Chuck to perform the dirty deed for all to see. Yes, the dreaded Reality you think this is angsty you got your head firmly inserted up your fanny. This is why I am so damned unpopular… it or not but read it and think about it. Reality does bite. I did my own reality check.  
APR

T/N: He's in a pissy mood. The slick's got everyone a little cranky. He can't help his friends with their boats and he's off the Vicodin so he feels guilty and pissy. He's writtn some add'l chaps I'll put up when I get time. sorry. fighting a deadline in the real world. No more pm's, pls. I have to live with him...lol Nicole 4/30/2010

* * *

_**Part 3 - Love, marriage, birth, death, they got it all out of order.**_He awoke to silence. Elizabeth was obviously with Charlie and he was alone. Alone. In the back of his mind he'd been reviewing alternatives to their current situation and had boiled it all down to five possibilities. He'd kicked them around since they'd been airlifted out of Khalot. That place had scared him, made him face things he thought long hidden, buried or just plain gone.

* * *

One – Status quo. Show up when time and missions allowed and insinuate himself back into the lives of the two people he loved more than anything and anyone on earth. The disruptions, tensions and eventual alienation that would result would be crippling to his relationship with Elizabeth and unfair to his baby girl.

Two – Get married and try to live as 'normal and simple' a life as his duties with the NSA allowed. His trip to Afghanistan and his brush with the real face of war made him question that option. He knew in his heart of hearts that Beckman saw him and his team as roving answers to her problem of ferreting out traitors, terrorists and Fulcrum agents. His time 'in the field' would only be greater not less and he'd be 'home' less and less. The results would be the same as the status quo option. Worse, he might not return from one of the junkets and leave behind a widow.

Three – Leave with the hope of someday being able to return and live a normal life, but how much time would pass? Could he ask a vibrant and loving woman to put it all 'on hold' until he could live as she wanted? And what would happen to his daughter? He'd be a stranger to her, the occasional visitor who's very presence created tension and sadness.

Four – Run. Take Elizabeth and Charlie and run as far and as fast as they could. He had 27 days of 'leave' and they could get almost anywhere in the world in that time. But that would mean always looking over their shoulders, living without contact with family and friends. Could he take Charlie from a safe and loving home and drag her through the 'jungle' of being hunted by his own government? No. Nor could he ask Sarah to do that.

Five – Beckman. Appeal to the General for 'guidance'. Appear to be indecisive and see what options she might have. Who knew she'd opt for a commission in the Army as a captain? He'd also have to talk to Casey about his suggestions. They'd grown closer, especially after Chuck had pulled his chestnuts out of the fire in Khalot.

He revised and simplified his options and felt he had to get input from his…well, from Liz. It was her life he was screwing over, delaying, risking or leaving. She had a baby as her first concern. Motherhood would always win over marriage or a lover. It was the way of things.

She'd slipped into the room and watched him argue with himself over something. She felt a sense of foreboding unlike anything she'd felt since he was overdue from Afghanistan. He was having either second thoughts or he'd put his mind on the problems facing them and reached conclusions, dismissed alternatives and probably made a decision.

They needed to talk. It was no longer about Chuck and Sarah. It was about Chuck and Liz and Charlie. She'd been cut loose from the spy life and she wanted as little to do with it as possible. She had a baby to protect and raise and she could do it alone if she had to. She wanted him with her but she had a higher responsibility now. She would do nothing that might harm her child.

Liz sat beside him on the couch and tousled his hair, leaning against him and enjoying their moment together.

"Chuck, we need to talk, talk about the future and what we're going to do. I know it's unfair to spring this on you, ask you to make decisions that we might not be able to carry out but I feel adrift, Chuck. I need grounding and direction. I have Charlie to think about now."

"I know. I haven't thought about much else since I was here the last time. Your dad thinks I should ask Beckman to base me out of your ranch but I don't think she'd go for it and I don't like the idea of bringing the possibility of danger here to you and your child."

"OUR child, Chuck. Charlie's yours as much as she's mine. I already…" She was defensive and her tone and tenor showed it. She didn't want to argue over little things when huge decisions stared them in the face.

"Hush, that's not what I meant. She's my darling baby girl and I already love her more than anything but for purposes of this discussion, Elizabeth, she's your daughter because you're the responsible parent, the one who will be here for her as she grows up, the one who will have to pick her up when she falls and guide her and love her for the both of us."

"You sound like you've already made up your mind, that you won't be a part of our lives, that we won't be together. Is that what you've decided, Chuck, unilaterally and without me having any say so in the matter?"

"I haven't decided anything, Elizabeth, I've just developed some scenarios that I think we should discuss and evaluate. This thing in my head is a curse to everyone I've come to love. Honestly, if Larkin hadn't left when he did, or if he walked through that door right this minute, I would be arrested for murder. I hate him. I really do."

"Chuck, baby, that's all in the past. Let it go. I'm yours and you're mine. And Charlie's ours, it's just that simple."

"I wish it were that simple but we both know it's not, Elizabeth." He fixed her with his stare, making her uncomfortable in her new role as 'Elizabeth'. What happened to 'Sarah' or 'Liz'?

"Chuck, do you love me? Me, Elizabeth, Liz, the mother of Charlie? Or was it Sarah Walker that you loved and now I'm…less, a substitute perhaps?"

"What? What the hell brought that on? How could you possibly question my feelings for you? I'm here. I got here as quickly as I could. I came back from the mission, as quickly as I could, and I've been tearing my heart out trying to figure out a way we can have the 'simple' life you dream of and you're questioning my love? Maybe this won't be such a hard decision for you to make after all, Elizabeth."

"See? See! Elizabeth. Elizabeth. Why am I suddenly 'Elizabeth' when you say 'Sarah' in your dreams, when it's 'Sarah' when you're flustered and – and…shit. I'll be back. I don't want to fight with you, honey. You're my love and I don't want to argue. I just want you to…arrrrggggh!" She got up and stormed out of the room and he heard the back door slam.

'Well, that went really well,' he thought.

* * *

He wandered out into the kitchen and helped himself to one of Mike's Bud's. At least someone else liked domestic beer.

He walked out onto the back porch and into the barn. He could hear her, in the loft, beating the crap out of a punching bag. His name was prominent in some of her more colorful expletive-laden phrases.

"Well, Chuck, whatever you did to piss her off, you better stay clear of her for a while. I have to run into town and pick up a seal for the pump on the north water well. Ride along with me. We have unfinished things to discuss and I want to run some things by you."

He saw Chuck look at the loft and cringe as an incredibly creative curse was practically screamed at the top of her lungs.

"Don't worry about her. It's her way of venting. C'mon. Rachel's keeping an eye on Charlie and we'll only be gone 2 hours. She'll be right as rain by the time we're back and reasonably willing to listen to your side of the argument."

"We didn't argue. She knows me too well to argue about things we know need to be settled. It's the emotional stuff she's hung up on. Sarah versus Elizabeth versus Liz."

"I got big ears and a closed mouth, Chuck. Feel free to unload. Sometimes an uninterested 3rd party can bring a new perspective to problems when you're too close to them."

He told him how he felt, how he'd developed some scenarios and wanted to discuss them with 'Elizabeth' and how she'd wigged out and asked him if he loved her or 'Sarah'.

"They're not the same person, Chuck. If you haven't figured it out yet, Elizabeth Reynolds is insecure, uncertain and trying to find her place back in the real world. Sarah Walker was a fiction. Elizabeth Reynolds is a person. So how did you answer her?"

He told him and Mike laughed. "You sure do know how to piss my little girl off, Chuck. It was the right answer, logically, but she's anything but logical right now. She's scared to death that you're going to make the decision to leave her, protect her with your absence, and maybe, just maybe, some day you'll find your way back to her."

"That's an option, Mike. I won't lie to you. And I won't lie to her. When did it get so damned complicated to love your daughter?"

"She's jealous, for one thing. You're moving up in her old world and she's stuck in your old world. Think about it. She loved her job and it got taken away from her, the one thing she was good at and it's gone forever."

"I was responsible for that. I should have been more careful, followed procedure but I was distracted and so she paid the price."

"You know, you really get off on feeling guilty, Chuck. It's not a trait you should foster."

"Easy for you to say. You've got what I want. A wife and kids, a home. Me? I got a bunker at the end of the day. Even though she's your daughter, Mike, if you were me, which option would you choose?"

"Thankfully, that's not my decision."


	11. Chuck Meets the Competition

Lovein3parts11

T/N: His handwriting is terrible so if I fubared something, I'm sorry in advance. NF

* * *

_**Part 3 - Love, marriage, birth, death, they got it all out of order.**_

* * *

**Beautiful Downtown Hodge, Wyoming**

"Hey, Mike, how's it going?" That was one of several greetings they got walking into the hardware/auto parts/home appliance store.

"You're pretty well known I see. How big is Hodge anyway?"

"Inside the 'city' limits, oh, about 700 or so. The county has about 3,000 and that's not much but come Saturday night the whole county seems to converge on the Gin Mill. It's the best bar and restaurant in Hodge. Actually, it's the _only_ bar and restaurant in Hodge." He laughed and shook him head. There were 700 people living in his old apartment complex.

"Must seem primitive after L.A., right?"

"No. I like it. You can walk into your own apartment complex and not see anyone you know or if you do see someone, saying 'hello' seems to mark you as a stalker or something. This is nice. This is the way it should be."

Mike looked at him and grinned. He liked this guy and he hoped they could make a go of it. His daughter deserved someone like him. Someone not like Larkin.

As they walked into the store a voice called him from the street. Mike turned and waved and then walked over to talk with the sheriff, a man a few years older than Chuck. Chuck waited at the door for him but Mike waved him over.

"Captain Ethan Brand, this is Sheriff Ben Scott. Ben, Ethan's staying out at the house with Lizzie. He stays over at the airbase in Rapids City. You'll be seeing a lot more of him. Nickname's 'Chuck', but I don't know why."

They exchanged handshakes and Chuck noticed how Scott seemed to be taking his measure, sizing him up.

"Chuck, Ben and Lizzie were a hot item back in high school. He's been out to the house a few times, mostly on business but just so you know, he's intending to pay 'attention ' to Lizzie if you don't marry her first."

"Mike, you got a big mouth. That was totally uncalled for. I'm sorry, Captain. So, what branch, Captain? Retired?"

"No. Special branch. We…travel a lot."

"Chuck just got back from Afghanistan. He was with some Marines out in the boonies. Just got back yesterday and he's on leave for a month." Chuck looked at him, wanting him to take back those words. Ex-CIA agent? Not with a mouth like that.

"You didn't happen to be in a shit hole call Khalot, did ya? My brother called us after that mess over there. Talked about a guy…with a cane and one damned eye. That wouldn't be you, would it, Captain?"

"Uh, no. We just did surveys in Kabul. Must have been some other lucky guy. Don't even know where Kapot is."

"Khalot."

"Whatever."

The sheriff looked at Mike and smiled. "He don't lie worth a shit, does he? My little bro talked about you, Captain. You and that big man you…"

"He's mistaken. Sorry. Mike, I want to get back and get this settled. Sheriff, nice to have met you and glad your brother's OK. He's a damned good officer."

Chuck walked into the store but the sheriff stopped Mike. "That's my competition? That's the guy Lizzie's in a tizzy over?"

"Yeah, Ben, and you don't stand a snowball's chance in hell." They both laughed although the sheriff's wasn't as heartfelt. What were the odds his brother would have served with that guy. Well, shit. A spook, to boot. Well, maybe Lizzie would reconsider. After all, the guy looked like a nightmare.

As they walked down the aisle towards the hardware section Chuck turned and glared at Mike.

"What the fuck was that about. What part of 'secret' have you forgotten? No one's supposed to know about Afghanistan. And what was that crap about 'if I didn't marry her first'?"

"Thought it was only fair to warn him. And you. If Lizzie hadn't gone off to DC, she'd have been Mrs. Ben Scott. And you did say his brother was a good officer." Seeds planted. Time to water and step back and watch them sprout.

"Well, shit. Yeah. OK. What's done is done. I'm sure he isn't going to run off and tell the Russians about it. You said he'd been out to the house on business? What kind of business? You in trouble, Mike? Can I help?"

"Cattle rustlers in the 21st century! I'm losing 10 to 15 head a month. The bastards are butchering them in the damn field and leaving the less expensive cuts to rot or attract coyotes and wolves. That's why I've been checking the fences more often, sometimes spending the night out there." He wasn't surprised Chuck would offer to help. Liz didn't run after the selfish ones, well, not after the crap she put up with Larkin.

Chuck thought about that and then said, "And the other times he's been out there?"

"He came to see Liz, of course."

Chuck helped him load the crate of seals and a new wellhead into the pickup. He said nothing during the drive back to the ranch. He just thought a lot.

'_Ben Scott would be a stable man in her life. She already had a history with him and he obviously wanted to pick up where they left off. She' d have probably married him and been happy if she hadn't gone with the CIA.'_

He needed to talk with Beckman. It was time to distill his options down to bare minimum.

* * *

Liz was sitting on the porch in a rocking chair drinking a cup of coffee and waiting for Chuck and her father to return. She wouldn't apologize to him but she'd make it up to him. It wasn't his fault he couldn't read her mind or know what her fears were. She hadn't told him.

After a _very_ quiet dinner Liz helped Rachel with the dishes and then gave Charlie a bath and bottle. Mike told Chuck to meet him in the barn. He had something to show him. All during dinner Rachel had been giving him the evil eye. He'd told her what had happened in town and she really took him to task over it.

"_Michael Reynolds, you can be the biggest ass on the planet. They're having enough problems without you meddling and throwing that womanizer Ben Scott into the mix. You know what Chuck will think – stable, local, and already has a history with Liz. If you mess this up for them you'll be spending more time out on the fence line."_

While they were doing the dishes her mother broached the subject of Chuck and Ben.

"Your father ran into Ben Scott in town today. Introduced him to Chuck. Told him Chuck was his 'competition' and that if he didn't marry you, Ben most probably would."

"I'm going to kill him, Mother. Slowly. And then bury him where no one can find him. Just so you won't be surprised."

Actually, the idea of two men fighting for her hand was appealing in a teenage sort of way.

"Your dad also said he'd been in Afghanistan and Chuck had a fit. Then Ben said his brother had been with a man like Chuck, cane, one eye and a bad leg and that he really was impressed with him."

"I'll be Chuck liked that description."

"I told your dad he'd be sleeping in the line shack if he didn't mind his own business." After a while Rachel continued. "So, is there anything going on between you and Ben, Liz? It's unfair to Chuck to string him along."

"I need to give Charlie a bottle and then a bath. I'll talk to you later."

* * *

Chuck told Mike he had to make a call to the base before meeting him in the barn. "I have to make a call first. Check in. I'll be along in a few minutes."

Stepping out on the front porch and taking a deep breath, he called Casey.

"Casey, secure. What is it, Brand?"

"I need a few minutes of your time and the advantage of your vast experience, Major Casey, sir."

Ten minutes later he hung up and walked back to the barn. He'd run the options past Casey, mentioned the big-mouthed Mike's error and then listened. He basically agreed with Chuck and told him to talk with Beckman. Maybe she'd surprise him.

"Who was that, sweetie?"

"Chuck. Things are coming to a head between him and Walker. I told him to talk to Beckman."

"Well, at least he has this leave to enjoy things." Heather Parker never felt that 'Chuck & Sarah' stood a chance. The odds were stacked against them.

* * *

Chuck followed Mike to the back of the cement-floored barn and watched while he moved some hay bales around and then pulled up on a ring seated in the concrete revealing stairs leading down and underneath the barn.

He gritted his teeth and walked down the stair and was stunned when Mike turned on the lights and he saw where he was. It was a mini-Castle.

"Is it still functional? On-line and everything?"

"Yeah. I still handle some defectors and do recruiting so I need the same level of access and communications as a site team needs. When you're ready, you can teleconference with the General and set your mind at ease."

"Tonight, spend some time with Liz. There's still unresolved issues between you. You need to make your decision soon. It's not fair to keep her in limbo. She's got a life to live and a future to plan, too, y'know?"

"So you think she would be happy with a guy like Ben Scott, Mike? He seems like a stand-up guy. They have history and you said they'd have married if she hadn't gone CIA. Would he be good to Liz and Charlie?"

"Yeah, Chuck, I think she could be and he'd be a good father." _'But Liz has her heart set on you, you dumb jackass. And Scott's already been married – twice.'_

* * *

Chuck sat in front of the fireplace, his mind a million miles away and going the speed of light. He was racking his brain for a way out but couldn't find one that worked. And he kept coming back to Ben Scott. Was Mike right? Could Liz be happier with Scott? How would he handle losing everything that was important to him in one fell swoop if he just walked away and 'wished her a better life'?

A flannel night-gowned Liz sat in his lap and put her arms around him. He'd been quiet since this afternoon, hardly saying a word during dinner and she wondered if he was still angry with her for her temper tantrum that afternoon.

"Hey, handsome, want to fool around." She nuzzled his neck, capturing a bit of skin between her teeth, marking him and he tightened his grip on her. They hadn't made love yet. He seemed shy about physical affection and that hadn't been the case in Burbank, not at all. Not in the privacy of her hotel room.

"Chuck, what's wrong? Don't you want me any more?"

"Do you really see me, Liz? I see people's faces when they think I'm not watching. The…disgust and averted eyes. I hate the pitying looks the most. They hurt the most. But Liz, do you see me as I am or me as I used to be?"

So, it wasn't her, after all. He was self conscious of his scars, the missing eye, and the cane and limp.

"I see you, Chuck. I see a kind and gentle man who gave up almost everything to protect me when he had no reason to. I see a loving father and a man I want to marry and spend the rest of my life with. You're a beautiful man, Chuck, and I love you. Scars don't matter. If they bother you that much, we'll just get plastic surgery."

"I don't want my daughter to be ridiculed at school because her father is a living gargoyle. Kids are cruel. I don't want her to have to endure that."

"Shhh, my love. We have years to worry about that. You can have the surgery anytime you want. But understand something. I don't think you're a gargoyle. I think you're beautiful and I love you, Chuck. Always and forever." She kissed him and started unbuttoning her nightgown. She wouldn't let her guilt ruin this special evening.

"You're not the only one with scars, Chuck. See?" She turned so he could see her shoulder and neck.

He kissed the scar on her neck with a tenderness that brought tears to her eyes and then he pulled her into such a tight embrace that she could hardly breath.

"We will get plastic surgery on the neck, Liz. Not for me, but for you and Charlie."

"We'll make this work, Liz. We'll find a way to be together. I won't lose you now. I lost you once to Larkin and now I might lose you to Ben Scott. Don't give up on me, Liz, please? Give me time to find a solution for us. If I can't, then Ben's probably the best option for you and Charlie. I'll…I don't know what I'll do but you and Charlie are more important." He sounded desperate like he'd already lost her.

"Ben Scott? Who told you about Ben Scott?" She was so going to kill her father. He'd been out twice since then but nothing more had happened. What had Ben Scott said to Chuck that made him so unsure of her?

"What did Ben say to you, Chuck? And why are we discussing 'options' for me and my baby?"

"Your dad just said that you two had 'history' and if you hadn't gone to the CIA you'd have married him."

"Maybe. Probably. Not much choice in a small town. But I'm so glad I didn't and that I have you now, Chuck. You're all I want."

"He said Ben would make you happy and be a good father to Charlie. That's important to me, Elizabeth. You two are my world and I just want what's best for you both."

"You're what's best for us, sweetheart. My father talks too much and you listen to the wrong things. Listen to me for a change, Chuck. Listen with your heart."

* * *

When the baby woke up and started fussing a little before 6am, Chuck crawled across Liz to slide out of bed to take care of her. He wanted her to sleep in, if possible. She'd been very emotional, almost frantic in her lovemaking and also very physical. He had aches in places he hadn't used in ages. He pulled the covers over her, kissed her hair and then went to fetch the other love of his life after pulling on jeans and a t-shirt.

He found Mike already up and dressed and getting ready for another day. He watched Chuck with Charlie and appreciated and approved of everything he was doing.

"Mike, I want to use your system to conference with Beckman this morning as soon as I put her back down. She's not really ready to eat yet. I think she just heard you guys moving around and wanted to join the party."

"Sure. Just pull on the ring and walk down. You should be familiar with the setup. It's only a few years older than the new stuff."

He put Charlie in bed with Liz and then finished dressing and headed out to the barn and a conference that would probably be life changing.

* * *

It was Saturday and he'd forgotten. The General did have a personal life, he was sure.

"Captain Brand, to what do I owe the honor of your interruption? I have things to do and it _is_ Saturday." She noted his point of origin. CIA intel station. Hmm.

"Ma'am, Major Casey advised me to contact you since you're my direct superior. Um, General, I want to get married. As soon as possible. She's an ex-CIA agent and we have a baby girl I never knew about."

"And?"

"And…?"

"Is there more to this interruption than your desire to get married, Captain Brand?"

"Yes, General, depending on whether or not I get your permission."

"Fine. Get married. Don't let it get in the way of your missions and operations. Also, you will still have responsibilities to the intersect project, Captain. Is that all?" She looked pointedly at her watch.

"Um, I'd like to be based out of Hodge, Wyoming. About 10 miles out. There's a mini-castle set up for a CIA agent who says he's retired but I doubt it. He's her father."

"Mike Reynolds. Yes. Fine. I'll send through the necessary paperwork. Now, is there _anything_ else, Captain?"

"No, General. Thank you for your time. And patience."

"Fine. Have a nice day, Captain Brand. And try not to get into anymore last stands. Khalot was a close shave, Captain, for you and the Major. It might have gone either way. Bad intel put you there and bad weather kept you there. The Marines were quite complimentary of you and Major Casey. 'Almost as good as Marines' is high praise from the snuffies. Quick thinking using the SatPhone. Now, good _day_, Captain Brand."

_Could it really be that simple?_


	12. It Ended in Burbank

Lovein3parts12

T/N: Transcribed from his longhand. Any mistakes are mine. Thank you spell checker. NF

* * *

_**Part 3 - Love, marriage, birth, death, they got it all out of order.**_

When he hobbled into the kitchen and swept her up in a hug and swung her around, her first thought was '_he's lost his mind_' followed by '_he's going to mess up his knee_'.

"Chuck, please. Put me down. Your knee."

"Elizabeth Reynolds, Sarah Walker, by whatever other names you are known, marry me. Everything's fallen into place and not on our heads for a change. Beckman even agreed to allow me to base out of here."

"You mean you'll be living here, with us, full time? No bunker, no super-secret spy hole? Really?"

"Yep. Beckman was direct and to the point. As long as being here doesn't screw up my day to day activities she's OK with it."

"But what about missions and ops and refreshers and trips to places like where you were…I mean, you'd still be an active operative, right?"

"Yes, but things are slowing down, we're looking more at pinpointing Fulcrum agents and rounding them up. The Afghan thing was not one of our normal taskings. We're going to be searching for higher level Fulcrum agents and supporters."

"How much travel?"

_Why was she asking all these questions? Was she looking for an out already? She'd said she wanted to get married just last night. __Chuck was confused. What happened to the woman from last night?_

"Chuck, how much travel?"

"I don't know. It shouldn't be excessive. I mostly review intel summaries and then we get tasked if something really important comes up. Why?"

She chewed on her lower lip. A sure sign of indecision or worry.

He put her down, rather abruptly. The joy of the moment was gone, replaced by concern for her indecision.

"Liz? Talk to me, honey. What's wrong? Last night you said you wanted to marry me and now when I've eliminated all the obstacles between us, got things as simple as they can possibly be, you seem…unsure?"

"Chuck, it's a big decision. And I have Charlie to consider."

"That's just plain lame, Elizabeth Reynolds. Surely you can come up with a better reason not to accept my proposal since you said it was what you wanted not 12 hours ago. I can be here. We can be a family. Charlie can have her daddy all the time. You can have me…"

"Chuck, it's a big decision. Give me some time and space. I need to…"

_She won't look me in the eye. She won't look at me at all. So, here in the harsh light of day she can really see me, stripped of all the romantic filters. She sees me. And she can't stomach what she sees, doesn't want to be married to a disfigured man. She probably compared me to Ben Scott and I came in a weak 2nd._

"OK. Let me know when you've had enough time. I'll give you space."

He walked back to her bedroom, pulled out his bag and began stuffing his clothes into it, trying not to lose his temper with her. Mike said she was angry and jealous and insecure about her new role. He could understand that. But last night…shit.

He had loved Sarah Walker and Sarah Walker had loved him. He loved Elizabeth Reynolds, but maybe Elizabeth Reynolds didn't love Chuck Bartowski. Mike had said his Sarah was a 'fiction'. He remembered once that Sarah had said her personality in Burbank was a construct based on profilers' opinions of what kind of woman he would be interested in.

Maybe the whole damned thing was fiction. The only thing real in this whole damned Kabuki play was Charlie and while he knew she was Elizabeth's child now he was overcome with doubt about who her father was. It didn't matter. He loved his little girl. She was his in his heart and that's where it counted the most.

He walked back through the kitchen but Liz was gone. Rachel and Mike had taken Charlie for a ride to give them some privacy when he told Mike he was going to contact Beckman. He wouldn't even get to see her one last time.

"Casey, secure. I just spoke to the General, Chuck. Congratulations to you both!"

"How soon can I get a pick up, Major Casey?"

"What? Why?"

"Seems Sarah Walker loved me but Elizabeth Reynolds needs 'time and space' before making her decision. Please, John, I can't stay. I don't belong here. You should have seen the look on her face. She couldn't look at me after I asked her. She wouldn't even give me a reason. Last night she wanted nothing more and this morning…Please, Casey, get me a pickup. I'm giving her the space she needs. It's time for me to come home."

There was silence from the other end of the line and then, "I'll fly the bird myself. An hour, Chuck. Give me an hour."

Elizabeth contemplated the heavy body bag hanging before her and then slammed a series of punches and kicks into it, her frustration and anger showing in the sloppiness of her technique.

'_I love him. Why can't I say 'Yes, I'll marry you'?'_ She slammed the bag another time_. It's what I've wanted since Burbank. Why am I acting so stupid? What must he be thinking? What am I so damned afraid of?'_

She lost track of time as she tried to work out her problem while putting her body through the wringer. She stopped when she heard the sound of a helicopter. '_I'll give you space'_, he'd said.

She ran through the house calling his name and out onto the verandah and then out to the fence. The Jet Ranger was in a ground effect hover preparing to lift off.

She ran toward the helicopter screaming for him to stop and not to leave her.

Casey saw his old partner climb over the fence and run toward the helicopter. He spoke to Chuck over the helmet intercom. "Chuck, it's Sarah, I mean Elizabeth. I'm going to set us back down. Talk to her, Chuck. Don't be an asshole and run away."

"I'm not running away, Major Casey, sir. I'm giving her what she asked for. I'm giving her space. Now, please get us airborne. This isn't helping matters. And it's killing me so get this fucking helicopter airborne, now!"

Chuck reached up and unplugged the intercom and made lifting motions with his hands. Even with the helmet's visor down, he could see the tear running down his partner's jaw line. '_This is bad,_' thought Casey, '_very, very bad._'

Casey brought the chopper back down and landed and flipped switches going through the final checklist for engine shut down.

Chuck looked at him and Casey knew that the visored glare he was getting would be fatal if Chuck had anything to say about it.

Casey unbuckled his safety harness, took off his helmet and got out of the helicopter. He waved to his former partner and then moved to the rear of the helicopter to search for a nonexistent problem. Chuck swore and then started reinitializing the aircraft for engine start and flight.

He reached over and flipped the hatch lock on Casey's door. If he wanted to visit so damned badly, let him. Maybe he could find out what was going on in his ex-partner's head? He sure as hell didn't have a clue.

Sarah stood expectantly beside the copilot's door. He was making no move to leave the aircraft - in fact he was preparing for engine start and takeoff. He wouldn't even turn his head and look at her. She tried opening the door but it was locked and the rear doors were locked also. She walked around to the front of the aircraft and stood, tears streaming down her face and just looked at him. Waiting.

Chuck left his visor down. Damn Casey for a meddling old fool. He looked at Liz and motioned angrily for her to get out of the way but she just stood there, crying, as if it made any difference now.

Casey ran to the pilot's hatch but it was locked. Cursing a blue streak, he pounded on the Plexiglas cockpit but saw that Chuck was already well into the preflight checklist. He was surprised that he knew the list and concerned that the moron would actually try to fly. Flight Simulator was a game. He looked at Walker and saw the abject panic and fear on her face and in her eyes. She'd asked for space and he was giving it to her. And now she realized she'd been wrong but it was too late. The damage was done.

They were both so damned stubborn.

The turbine started to whine and then whir into startup and Casey was again surprised that his young partner seemed to be doing everything right. The rotor was initiated and the blades began to turn and Casey again pounded on the Plexiglas windscreen but was ignored. He rushed back and popped the electronics service port and pulled the 'six pack' of switch relays and fuses and the turbine whined and died as electrical power was cut off at the source.

He felt like just sitting in the cockpit until… crap. He was the one who had been rejected and he was the one who had the moral high ground. She wanted space; he tried to give it to her and failed. So what else was new?

Sighing, he took off the helmet and leaned his head back against the transmission bulkhead. No more. It was finished. What had started as a bright and shiny thing in Burbank had died in a pasture in Wyoming.

'_Why is he just sitting there? Why won't he get out of the helicopter and at least let me explain myself?' _In the back of her mind she had her answer. _'You asked for time and space. Time would take care of itself. He was giving you space, like everything else you've ever asked of him.' _

Chuck popped the hatch cover and slipped out onto the ground, careful not to put too much weight on his bad leg. Shit. What a rat screw this turned out to be. He went back and opened the passenger door and retrieved his bag and cane.

"Chuck, I…"

He brushed past her and headed for the house. He heard the sound of the Jeep as it rounded the curve near the creek and then stopped when the driver saw the Jet Ranger in the pasture.

Rachel turned to her husband and glared at him. "If this in any way involves that ass Ben Scott, you're going to get the time you wanted to fix up the north line shack because you're going to be living there, Michael Reynolds."

Mike watched as Chuck carefully climbed the fence after first _throwing_ his travel bag over it. From the altitude and distance traveled, he gauged the man's anger and shook his head. What had his daughter done now?

"Hello, Elizabeth. Nice to see you, I guess. I see some things never change, do they? Still torturing the boy with come/go, yes/no signals. Y'know, I almost didn't pull the 'six-pack' except for the fact that I couldn't come up with a good enough reason for the Accident Investigation Board for Ethan to be flying the Ranger alone. Watching my ass, even now."

He walked past her, not caring in the least if she was following. His responsibility was his current partner, not his old one.

"Casey, please. That's not fair. You don't know the half of it. You have no idea…"

He turned on her, his face a mask of anger. "I know everything, Walker. Everything. I know about your little trysts in Burbank and y'know what? I didn't care. He's good people and… and I've listened to all his brainstorming about what possible scenarios there were, how to approach each, what to do if this or that happens…I have a better idea of what's going on in the kid's head, Walker, than you do, obviously."

"It's Reynolds, now, Major, Elizabeth Reynolds." She was getting angry.

"Yeah, and that's the major part of the problem according to him. Sarah loved Chuck unconditionally but Elizabeth doesn't. Elizabeth has reservations. Elizabeth has a baby to consider."

"Yes, damn it, that's right. Elizabeth has a baby!"

He stared at her for just a moment before looking away and shaking his head. "And so does Chuck, Elizabeth, but you seem to have conveniently forgotten the other half of her parentage. Selfish, insecure, and afraid. That's you, Elizabeth. He knows all that but doesn't care. He's tried to craft a life that will appeal to you, that will make you happy and you tell him you _need more time and space_?

"I'm afraid. He's needy on a level I can't fill. He'll be out there and I'll be here and he'll meet someone who can fill those needs and be a real life partner to him and then what happens to me?"

"He's not the 'needy' one in this little production of yours. You are. All he wants is for you three to be together and happy."

She looked down at her feet, not knowing what to say.

"When we picked him up for the Afghan mission y'know what he told me? That he had the perfect life now, a woman who loved him and wanted to marry him, and a beautiful daughter who thankfully looked _nothing _like him. Wonder what he'd say now?"

"Casey, I do love him. I just don't know if I can mar.."

"Stop. Do not finish that sentence. I have to face him and he's gotten really good at reading me. Now, I'm going to check on him. I'll give him some time to think this through and then, if he still wants to leave, I'll take him. You better make something happen here or JAG lawyers will be negotiating visitation rights for Chuck."

"He's got other offers, y'know? There are women on our base who have done everything short of handing him their panties with their phone number written on them to get his attention. Not everyone thinks he's a living gargoyle. He's blown them all off – for now."

All the anger and frustration with her inability to commit to him and their situation bubbled to the front and she spun Casey around and slapped him as hard as she could.

"He is not a gargoyle or a nightmare or a... I can't look at him, John, without remembering how he came to be this way. I feel guilty because he was protecting me and Bryce. The guilt is eating me up. He's sensitive about his scars. I'm sensitive about them. He's not some monster…"

He rubbed his face and smiled a small smile. "I was wondering where Sarah Walker was hiding. Show some of that spunkiness to your boyfriend or kiss him goodbye. And decide whether it's guilt or love you're feeling. And then for God's sake _TELL HIM_! He has the right to know. He'll understand guilt a lot easier than a lie."

Casey figured a small lie in a good cause was forgivable. There were quite a few women at the base who'd tried to get Chuck into their bed but there was only one woman who'd shown an _un_healthy interest in Chuck and he had, indeed, blown off Carina Hansen.

Sarah followed Chuck into the house while Casey walked up the road to the idling Jeep and introduced himself to the Reynolds.

"Actually, I don't want to be collateral damage when those two fire breathers get into it. I'm Chuck's partner. The fairer member of our team decided to sit this one out. So, anyone taking bets on the outcome?"

"Elizabeth will kick his ass if he doesn't come around to her way of thinking" said Mike Reynolds smugly.

"Her way of thinking? You mean jerking him around, telling him last night that she wants to marry him but today, when he's cleared all the obstacles, she isn't 'sure' and wants time and space? She's in for a surprise. He's not the geek she knew in Burbank, and he's pissed off beyond belief at her. Now, introduce me to my honorary niece."

They sat at the kitchen table across from one another, neither saying a word as Liz tore a hole in her mother's tablecloth with her thumbnail. Finally, unable to handle the silence any longer, she started talking in a quiet and subdued voice.

* * *

_**APR**_


	13. Tranks for the Memories

Lovein3parts13

T/N: That's it for a bit. I do have a life. And his handwriting is hard to read when I've been drinking wine. Lol Nik

* * *

"Chuck, this has nothing to do with your facial scars or the eye or the bad knee. It has a lot to do with the guilt I feel in my gut every single time I see you in daylight and remember why you have them. I could just throw up from the surge of guilt."

"You got them protecting me and Larkin. Even after the revelation that we were married, you still held out. Even when a normal person, even a spy, would have broken, you didn't. You never broke and I wish you had from the first moment they snatched you. But I can live with it. You've helped me with it. We can get surgery for the scarring if you're worried about Charlie."

He started to say something, finally, but she held up a hand, asking him to wait a moment. She was gathering her thoughts.

"I'm afraid of losing you to another 'Sarah Walker'. I'm not the woman I was in Burbank. I'm not your 'Sarah'. I'm Elizabeth Reynolds and Elizabeth Reynolds is terrified of not being the person you fell in love with and who fell in love with you. That's why I can't... I love you more than anything but I'll lose you and that would be more than the pain of not having had you."

He didn't say anything. He couldn't think of anything to say. It was over. When he spoke she hardly recognized his voice. He refused to look directly at her and spoke to someone unseen over her shoulder.

"I'll make financial arrangements for your daughter with the Agency. The only request I have is that you legally change her name to Reynolds so that when you marry Ben Scott she can be adopted. I don't want her to know that… that he's not her father. I don't want any record of my existence in her life. It will make her life so much easier and…"

Liz was shocked and her face showed it. She never expected his reaction. She never meant this to happen. She loved him and she wanted him in her life and in his daughter's life.

"Chuck, I…"

"Chuck Bartowski died in the basement of a vacant home off the Ventura Highway. His body was found in his Herder in a ravine off the highway. He's dead. Chuck and Sarah are no more. Mike says Ben will make you and your baby happy. That's all I ever wanted, the two of you happy."

He left the table and walked out the back door of the kitchen and went to the barn. She was right. She was not Sarah Walker. Sarah Walker had more courage and love in her little finger than the shell sitting at the kitchen table had in her entire body.

He moved the hay bales and pulled up the trap door leading to Mike's mini-Castle and stopped. He needed time to gather his thoughts and plan his actions. He climbed up to the loft and saw the punching bag and the body bag. He stripped off his coat and methodically began beating the shit out of the body bag.

Mike and his wife and Casey walked into the kitchen. Elizabeth was still sitting at the kitchen table, but was now sobbing uncontrollably, her head on her folded arms.

It was nearly 10 minutes before she could speak coherently. She told her parents what she'd said to Chuck and Casey mentally started preparing to leave and report to Beckman by phone. This would devastate the intersect host and Beckman needed to know and take appropriate action but he was drawn back into the conversation by her 'recitation' of Chuck's conditions.

"Oh, Lizzie, he doesn't mean that. He loves little Charlie and he loves you. He's just hurt and probably off licking his wounds, trying to come up with a way to persuade you to change your mind. You just wait and see. He's not the kind of man to just abandon his family." Or so her mother hoped and prayed. She glared at her husband and told him to find Chuck and if he ever wanted to sleep inside again, he'd better make this right. Ben Scott was never to set foot in her home again.

"Mrs. Reynolds, you're mistaken. He's not out 'licking his wounds'. He's out there figuring out how to handle this new pile of shit life's handed him. You people have no idea how committed he was to your daughter and his Charlie. He's out there disconnecting from the two of them and once he's done, you'll never know he existed."

Casey went with Mike Reynolds to find his partner and also to see this mini-Castle that Chuck had been so impressed with. His cell phone rang and it was Heather Parker with an alert regarding the weather.

"Sweetie, if you don't leave in the next hour you won't be able to. VFR is shutting down because of a blizzard and your flight path is being closed out in an hour. Snow and high winds have been predicted so you better tie down the Ranger if you don't want to pay for it."

"Crap. OK. We'll be in as early tomorrow morning as possible. You might have to spend a lot more 'quality time' with Ethan, Heather. He's going to be worse than he was after PT. He's an emotional wreck so he's going to need you." He disconnected the call.

Mike's face turned red and he fixed Casey with a withering glare.

"Major, who is "Heather" and what is her relationship with Chuck?"

"She's his partner, one of the ones I warned your daughter about, the ones who write their phone numbers in their panties and give them to him. They're close but not the way you think although she'd bed him in a heartbeat. Not everyone thinks he's disfigured like your daughter apparently does. At least not the one's who've taken the time to get to know him." Another little white lie for the greater good.

"And when you say spend a lot more time with him, what do you mean, exactly?"

"I mean that he's a very emotional person, loving too deeply and unconditionally. He made your daughter a promise once and he almost died keeping it. He doesn't bluff, Mike. What he told your daughter is exactly what he'll do. He's not out here plotting his next step. He's out here burying his love for her or starting to. I worry more about him losing contact with Charlie than with your daughter. He's family-first and severing all ties with her will probably kill him in the long run."

"Well, it might be for the best. Charlie won't know she isn't her dad's child when Liz marries." He wasn't above white lies either.

"You mean that scumbag Ben Scott that you've been pimping your daughter out to? Yeah, pimping. I ran a deep background on your local county sheriff. Twice divorced for reasons of alleged domestic violence. This is the guy you want to raise Charlie? Man, you definitely are CIA. Anything for the mission, even throwing your kid and grandchild into the mix."

Mike had the decency to blush.

Chuck had exhausted himself on the bag and his hands were bleeding and he probably had a couple of broken knuckles but the pain kept him focused. He hugged the big bag and continued punching his imaginary opponent in the kidneys. He was afraid to stop. Afraid to let his emotions rule him. If he started crying he'd never stop and he didn't want that. Not in front of the Reynolds family. Not in front of Elizabeth Reynolds.

He stood up and wiped his hands off on a towel, in control now. They'd have to deal with the bloodstains after he left. He needed to find Casey and leave. He'd already planned a rough course of action.

Beckman had always been paranoid about security of the intersect and yet she was unconcerned about him requesting a basing out of Hodge, Wyoming. Something just didn't add up. He'd talk to Casey. More than anything, he wanted to just walk out into the wilderness and disappear but he'd taken a commissioning oath and he never broke his word.

He carefully climbed down the ladder from the loft and turned and saw Casey and Mike Reynolds in a deep discussion, their backs to him. He heard Mike's comment but not Casey's. His anger flared again. That bastard had planned this from the start. Fucking CIA assholes. Well, the fruit doesn't fall far from the tree.

"Major Casey, sir, it's time to leave if you're ready. Looks like a storm's coming and I don't want to spend another fucking second in the company of these people. Let's go, Casey. I want to say goodbye to Rachel, though. She's been very nice, considering the circumstances."

"Can't, Chuck. Weather's closing out VFR and our flight plan's been closed out. Heather called. She's waiting for us, well, you, back at the base. We'll leave first thing in the morning, weather permitting."

"I'll fly the damned bird myself. I've got 400 hours in the base training simulator and I'm qualified on paper. I don't sleep much anymore and it seemed a good use of the facilities. I never got in anyone's way at 3am."

"I forbid it, Captain. I'm senior and I'm giving you a legal and direct order. Stand down." Casey knew he'd obey a legal order. He was predictable in that regard, unless someone was in trouble.

"So court martial me but at least I won't be here." He turned on his heel and there stood Elizabeth, holding Charlie. He almost lost control at that moment. They looked so beautiful together. Mother and child. Once, his child. Tears filled his eyes but he walked past them and collapsed.

"Daddy! What have you done?" Casey was just as surprised by the sound of the trank pistol firing.

"I've saved you both from making a horrible mistake. Major, get his shoulders and I'll get his feet. Liz, close up the barn. The wind's picking up and the Major has to tie down his chopper."

* * *

Awareness brought the inevitable headache and cottonmouth. "Here, lift you head. Your hands are a mess. Drink. You'll feel better after a normal nap. Here. Don't roll over on her." The voice was soft and sweet and loving. He had no idea who it was.

A squirming bundle of sweet-smelling baby was deposited on his bare chest and instinctively he brought his arms around her and inhaled deeply. He pulled the covers up over her and they both soon nodded off, completely at peace.

Liz sat on the edge of the bed watching the two most precious people in her world sleep. The baby had been fussy and wouldn't take her bottle but hunger finally won over her crankiness but it was short-lived. She gave up and gave the infant what she wanted. If only it could be that easy. She'd awakened in Burbank many mornings in just the exact same position: her head on his chest, a hand curled loosely in his chest hair and with a feeling of peace and contentment.

Somehow it had gotten out of control. What he wanted was suddenly more than she was willing to give him. She approached the situation emotionally whereas he'd become very pragmatic in his approach to problems.

'_I love you but I'll lose you to someone like I was so I'm not going to have you and then I can't lose you.'_ It sounded dumb even to her. Her father had taken steps to ensure that at least the next 'confrontation' would be after things had settled down a bit. He'd tranked him with a CIA dart that carried a punch and he'd been out for hours.

Of all the people to take her to task, she least expected the dressing-down she got from her own mother.

"Honestly, Liz, sometimes I think you lost what little common sense the Lord gave you when you married Larkin. That was until I met Chuck but now I see that was a fluke. You're just as stupid now as you were when you married Larkin. Well, it's not just your life you're ruining but his and Charlie's, too. She deserves a father who loves her like he does, not someone who'll assume the burden of another man's child just to get another notch in his belt."

She'd been talking about Ben Scott and her father's near proclamation of their 'impending' nuptials if Chuck didn't do something first. She knew how he thought, _'she'd be better off with a local, stable man who can give her the simple and normal she craved'_.

"Elizabeth, I'd expect this from Jessica but not from you. I thought you were the one who was grounded. Apparently I was wrong about you just as I was right about Jessie. You two are exactly alike. Hook them, reel them in and then throw them back when it looks like you might have to keep one. I'm done talking to you. Go ahead; throw him back. Ruin any hope for happiness."

She'd replayed the kitchen table 'discussion' many times in the 4 hours since he'd been tranked. She'd examined his body language and the way he spoke using her CIA training and there was little doubt in her mind that Chuck had meant exactly what he'd said. Either he'd anticipated her response or he'd simply done what he did best, strategize and plan and prepare for contingencies.

She made up her mind right then and there. She pulled her hair into a ponytail and stripped to her underwear and slipped in beside the rest of her family and just enjoyed the feeling that seeped into her heart. She was stupid and she was selfish and she was anticipating the worst possible scenario without considering the players. _He_ would never betray her. He was not Bryce Larkin.

With a wolfish grin she gently took the sleeping Charlie from her father but he muttered 'NO!' and pulled her gently back to him. She whispered 'my turn' in his ear and then took her sleeping baby back to her crib and took her place on his chest, fist curled loosely in his chest hair and he instinctively wrapped his arms around her and nuzzled her hair, planted a kiss and sighed before falling deeper into sleep.

* * *

The next time he woke up he was holding a pair of still-warm bikini briefs with a phone number written across the front in his bandaged hand and his cell phone was resting in the center of his chest.


	14. Lost and Found

Lovein3parts14

* * *

His first coherent thought when he saw what he was holding was 'What the Fuck?' but upon reflection maybe it wasn't.

He'd dreamed he was snuggling with Charlie and then she was taken away and replaced by a larger version, not nearly as soft but smelling different, not 'bad different just 'different' different. No, he wasn't very coherent at all.

"Shit" was the first word he muttered when he saw that he was only in boxers. What time was it? It was daylight and snowing…really snowing. He thought back for a moment to the events of the day and wished he could simply slip back into oblivious sleep.

"Ouch." Second uttering not much better than the first. Making a fist hurt. Both his hands hurt. Some kind soul had cleaned them up and bandaged the more serious of the cuts. He supposed that was the case. He didn't have x-ray vision and so he couldn't see through the gauze and adhesive tape.

Standing up was a mistake. Sitting back down was good. He looked at the panties in his hand again. Was it his imagination or were they cooler than they'd been when he first noticed them? And whose were they? He held them up and looked at them but there were no laundry marks or anything to identify the owner just the phone number that appeared to have been written with a Sharpie.

He was dizzy and had just exhausted his entire repertoire of detective skills. Satisfied with his findings and still dizzy, he lay back down, pulled the blankets over his head and slept, holding on to his phone and the Mystery Panties.

Some time later, he didn't know how much later, he awoke enough to remember everything that had happened. Her father had tranked him! Probably wanted to keep him from settling any differences with Sarah…shit…Elizabeth Reynolds…and save her for the dashing county sheriff, Ben Scott. Mike probably had parking tickets or something and he figured the fix would be in if he married his daughter off to him. CIA puke.

He got dressed, stopping several times because he was dizzy, and then sat on the newly made bed and dialed the number on the Mystery Panties. Yep, they were cooler now to the touch and that meant they'd been warmer earlier. The benefits of a Stanford education. All that tuition money had been well spent.

The phone rang several times before being answered by a breathy woman who sounded like someone he'd known in better times.

"It's about time you called. What took you so long?"

"Elizabeth? Elizabeth Reynolds?" He couldn't be sure. He hadn't recognized the number and he had no idea whatsoever what the area code was for Middle of Nowhere, Wyoming.

"_Yes!_ Who else would leave her panties in her hand? Don't answer that. I have something to say first and I want to get it said. Without interruptions, OK?"

He sighed. More games. He was so tired of games.

"Go ahead, Elizabeth. You have the floor. I will do my best not to be rude and interrupt you. Go right ahead." Now he heard her sigh.

"This is the hard part, honey, and you'll have to bear with me."

He waited. He heard another sigh. Sighs were emotional precursors. He waited.

"You died for me in that basement. You never broke. You protected me and I failed you. I was supposed to protect you and I failed and you died protecting me. The agent's supposed to die, not the asset, Chuck. But you never followed protocol very well. I never said 'thank you' for saving our lives, Bryce and mine. So I'm saying it now. 'Thank you, Chuck Bartowski, for saving my life."

He waited. And waited. He heard ragged breathing and then she continued.

"I should have realized something earlier, a lot earlier. You wouldn't ever betray me, let me down, find love in someone else's arms, because that's not who you are. Whether you call yourself Ethan Brand or any other cover name, you're still the man I fell in love with in Burbank, Chuck. And I'm the girl you fell in love with. Only the names have changed, OK, so we've got a baby, too, but that just makes it all the more perfect. So here's the deal, Chuck. If you can find me in the next 2 minutes, I'll marry you. If you can't find me…" Here she hesitated, as if granting him permission to interrupt.

"What? You'll marry Ben Scott like your father wants?" He let some of his anger and frustration slip into his voice. It wasn't deliberate but he wouldn't apologize. He was tired of games. He wanted simple.

"No. I'll come and find _you_."

He heard her voice from two locations – the phone and right behind him. He turned and she was there, gloriously naked and fresh from a bath, still damp and covered with goose bumps.

"Marry me, Chuck?"

_**APR**_


End file.
